Call Of The Huntress
by donutkirby
Summary: [BEEP] Hi, this is Dave from Vale Travel Security. I'd like you to answer a question: Do you like hurting other people? Of course you do. There's no need to be ashamed, of course - this story is fiction. None of it is real. Your room at 635 Parliament Street has been booked, and we hope you have a wonderful stay! [BEEP] ... (Warning: NSFW)
1. Act One: Genesis

**ACT ONE -** **GENESIS**

 _1st Scene: Awakening_

He had killed many times before.

The sensation was all too familiar to him - the sickening _crunch_ of bone as he crushed it under his fist, the soft feeling of a knife cutting through sweet, smooth flesh, and the horrid screams of his prey, echoing through his ears before fading into the silence.

He was looking down upon the face of a dying man. A familiar face, which contorted itself as it spasmed, retching blood as death throes overtook it. It was a familiar scene, for he had seen the man die many times before, felt the still-warm blood scald his own skin. And yet it never seemed to be enough.

A euphoric feeling was flowing through Mercury's body as he stood there, gazing upon his father's visage.

The memories were flooding his mind now. His father's fist flying toward his face, the screams, and the pain. The feverish, excruciating sensation of his legs as they were twisted and bent into the shape desired by his tormentor. The morbid violation he had endured, defiled by the very thing that had granted him his life. And how he had fought back. How he had driven the face of the man he hated into the ground, beating him to death as his lifeblood flowed out of him. How wonderful it had felt. But still it was not enough.

That was the lesson he had learned long ago. It was something that no man or woman had taught him, as it was something that he had had to understand for himself. Yet Mercury Black considered it to the first, most important rule of his profession. Of his life as a killer.

It really was never enough.

He brought down his fists once more, watching in fascination as his father's face burst open, his bloody brains staining his hands as the crevices of his skin were abruptly forced apart. This was what he lived for - this was all there was, and all he needed. Mercury gave a sigh of content.

"Are you ready to wake up now?" A voice from somewhere nearby caught his attention.

Confusion filled his body. This was not supposed to happen. He had repeated this scenario countless times, and nothing had ever changed.

As he blinked, still bewildered, he found himself in an old, dilapidated apartment. He wrinkled his nose in discomfort, as the stench of rotting wood entered his nostrils. There was the irritating _buzz_ of flies circling around a dimly lit ceiling lamp. Three empty sofa chairs, covered in cobwebs, took up the centre of the room. The windows were broken, and outside Mercury could hear the rain going _pitter-patter_ against the wall, as a humid atmosphere enveloped the room.

Mercury looked down at his legs. His father was gone. The floor was covered in layers of dust and mold, and a pair of cockroaches scurried by his feet.

"So here you are," said the voice.

Mercury looked up. Where there had been emptiness a second ago, three figures now sat on the chairs in front of him. On the left was thin, white-haired man wearing a formal green suit, his face covered by a strange mask in the shape of a phoenix. On the right was a beautiful blonde woman with the mask of a cat. And occupying the centre chair was a dark-haired man wearing the likeness of a pitch-black bird - a crow. The three of them sat there, their masked faces fixated on him, as if judging.

"...Who are you?" Mercury asked angrily. He coughed as he spoke, realizing that his throat was dry as a desert. "Where is this? What the fuck am I doing here?!"

"You must calm yourself," the man on the left said in a kindly tone. "We will not be able to answer your questions if you are so enraged."

"Maybe there's no answer," said the crow in a gravelly voice. "Things don't always happen for a reason, after all."

"You're just a waste of time!" the woman on the right said sternly. "If you won't listen, then you should just leave."

"..." Mercury glared at the three figures in confusion _The hell's going on…?_ "...It's just a dream," he muttered to himself out loud. "Ha, I get it. I got way too fucking high and now I'm passed out in some shithole of a nightclub somewhere in Vale. I'll wake up soon enough and forget about all this."

"A dream, you say?" asked the kindly man. "Well, I suppose you can see it that way."

"You certainly love your excuses, don't you?" said the stern woman. "It softens the blow of the despicable things you've done, and lets you hide from your actions like a coward!"

"You're hiding, alright," the crow agreed. "But it's something else you're hiding from, isn't it? Something in your life, something you can't stand, and can't run from...and the only way to escape all of it is _this._ "

Mercury was hit with a jarring sensation in the back of his head. He found himself facing the floor again, and this time his father was there. He glanced up at his son with those eyes full of malice and hatred, his bloodshot eyes twitching as crimson tears flowed down his face.

With a start, Mercury realized he was holding a pistol in his hands. Without hesitation, he aimed the weapon at his father's face and fired, watching as his head burst open into a sea of red chunks, like a watermelon past expiration date. The euphoric sensation filled his body again, and he smiled to himself.

He blinked, and once again his father was gone, and he was facing the three masked figures staring at him from their chairs.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" said the kindly man. "Many, many times."

"Does it never get tiresome? Is this really all there is to you?" the stern woman asked furiously.

"..Hmm. You know, I think I get you," the crow said, fascinated. "No matter how many times you repeat the cycle, no matter how many chances you get to break free, you'll always end up right back where you started. Because this? This is who you are. You're...trapped."

 _Trapped._ Trapped? Him? That didn't make any sense. He wasn't trapped in anything, not even close. There was nothing he needed to break free of - nothing holding him back!

Yet still the memories were returning. A perfectly ordinary, boring day. A call on his phone. A delivery had arrived for him, it said. A copy of the latest book in Arthur Watts' violent action series _The Hound._ A special lottery ticket had also come with it, and he was advised to read over it to ensure he was eligible to enter.

But he hadn't ordered anything, and there was no book or ticket in the package he'd received. Only a mask in the visage of the crow, much like the one worn by the man staring at him right now, a loaded gun, and a note.

 _Package pickup is at 89 Crescent Avenue. Deposit in the mailbox by From Dusk Till Dawn. Discretion is of utmost importance. Don't disappoint us._

And he hadn't disappointed them. Who had sent the package? Well, it didn't matter to him. After he'd done what he'd been asked to do, another call had arrived. And another. And then another. And then another. And then another. And then another. And suddenly, everything had changed for him. Suddenly, his life felt like it had meaning.

 _Trapped. You're trapped._

Despite himself, Mercury found himself laughing. "...Trapped? Who, me?" he chuckled hoarsely. "No. You don't get me, do you? I, I chose this. All of this. It's what gets my blood pumping every goddamn day. It's the only thing that gets me crawling out my shit-stained bed in the morning. It's my life - and I fucking love it. I'm not trapped - I'm _free_!"

None of the figures said anything. Mercury's head began to spin, as the vision of the dim room began to waver, causing him to lose his balance. "Wha...what's happening…?" he gasped.

"We'll never meet again," the crow assured him, as he and his two companions began to flicker out of existence. "Just know this. You're not going to do anything of any consequence...and you'll never see the truth."

Suddenly, the lamp fizzled out, and the whole room went dark. As Mercury glanced around the room in a panic, reaching out his hands desperately to find something to hold onto, he felt the floor gave way beneath his feet. With a loud _crunch,_ the floorboards he was standing on snapped, and he fell, screaming in fright, into the endless abyss...

...and with a gasp, his eyes flew open. For a few moments, he lay where he was, feeling his heart pounding out of his chest. Eventually, feeling began returning to his body. _It was a dream, just a really fucked-up dream,_ Mercury told himself. _What a fucking pussy you are, getting scared by dumb shit like that._ Groaning, he shifted his body sideways, grabbing his bedsheets as he groggily took in his surroundings.

He was in his apartment, also known as the dingiest, shittiest, most primitive living space ever put on the planet. It was little than a single bed, a desk, a worn-down stove, and something that could barely qualify as a bathroom. This shithole had been his home for the past two years, and slowly he'd become grudgingly fond of the place. He supposed he could move into a more civilized home if he had more money, but where was he supposed to get it? He didn't have the qualifications to get any normal job in this cesspool of a country. No, in the end, this was all he had.

He'd overslept. Judging from the clock by his bedside, it was already past noon. _Just my luck,_ he thought dejectedly.

A soft groan from beside him caught his ear. Reaching out, Mercury grasped the bare shoulder of the woman lying next to him. She turned over slowly onto her side, flashing him a sultry smile. "Well, good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Fine enough," Mercury grinned, forcing the memory of his dream back into the corners of his mind. "No thanks to you, obviously." He ran his fingers through her silky black hair.

The woman's name was Cinder, and Mercury considered her to be his prize for today - a well-deserved reward for all the hard work he'd been doing. He'd run into her at the nightclub the previous day, and had paid her a hefty sum of money - more than he could afford to give away. While the vixen had initially turned him down in favour of some other douchebag, eventually she had been his. It had taken some seriously heavy bargaining, though. As Mercury sat up in his bed, he winced as the sharp pain came rushing back into his ribs. "Fucking hell," he muttered, rubbing it gingerly.

It didn't matter how much it hurt, he could damn well live with it. He'd gotten what we wanted, and the girl was all his. _Well...sort of._ He flashed an irritated glance at the other end of his bed, where a scrawny, dark-skinned girl lay, asleep. Turned out Cinder had a girlfriend, some bitch named Emerald. As far as Mercury knew, she was just some alley-raised whore who hung out with those pot-headed dipshits that were always dying in hilarious freak accidents. It disgusted him that he had to 'share' with her. As if his apartment wasn't crowded enough.

A _buzzing_ sound from his desk made him realize what had woken him up. _Another call._ He smiled to himself, casually shoving Emerald onto her back as he got out of bed. He walked over to where he'd left his cell phone and turned it on. Sure enough, there was a voicemail.

 _You have 1 unread message._

…

 _Hello? Yes, this is Reese. We've got an opening for a janitor at 57 Tenor St,and there's a lot of messes we'd like you to clean up. Please be efficient and thorough! Hope to see you there!_

 _Beep_

…

"Heh...awesome," Mercury chuckled. "Two lucky days in a row for me."

"Oh? Is this something to do with your work?" Cinder murmured.

Mercury gave an enthusiastic nod. "Hell yeah, it is. Sorry, babe, but I'm gonna have to go out for a bit while I get this job done. Oh, and don't worry about staying in this hellhole all day - I've got a much better idea for you." He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and handed it to her. "Ol' Tukson's having some big farewell party over at his place tonight, and I'm invited. It'll probably be shit, but at least his house is nice. Tell the asshole you know me and he'll let you in. Then when I get back we can _really_ have some fun." He turned and walked over to the door.

"I'm looking forward to it," she purred. Beside her, Emerald was waking up. "Ughh…" she yawned, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Hmm? Where are you going…?" Ignoring her, Mercury hastily packed his belongings and left the apartment room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Once he was outside, he took a deep, relieved breath, and brought out something from his backpack. It was the mask - the one that had started it all. Quietly, Mercury glanced into the crow's blank eyes, taking in the avian's dark, foreboding image. Despite himself, a chill ran down his spine as he put it over his face. He swallowed his fear as he focused on the task ahead of it.

"Alright then," he said to himself. "Let's go hurt some people."

* * *

 _2nd Scene: Euphoria_

Hailing a taxi, Mercury soon found himself at the location the phone call had indicated. It was a rather boring-looking building, located right in the middle of nowhere. From a distance, it didn't look like anyone had lived there for years. Though he looked it over for a few moments, Mercury decided there weren't any parts of the place that were worth describing in detail. He just wanted to get to the fun part.

A lone man dressed in a black suit and red sunglasses was standing guard. He held a crude-looking baseball bat in his hands - probably still heavy enough to bash someone's brains open. Mercury walked up to him wordlessly. "Hey assface, it's not fucking Halloween, y'know," he growled as the masked young man approached. "Oy, the hell are you-"

Mercury kicked him, savagely, in the gut. He grabbed the man's mouth before he could cry out for help, and made his way inside the building. As he entered, closing the door behind him, he glanced around. _Okay, no other thugs in sight._ Grunting, he threw the man's head against the wall several times, until his forehead burst and the shattered fragments of his skull were scattered on the rug. Mercury retrieved the bat and looked around the corner. Two more men were facing away from him as they walked down a hallway, discussing something. They were both carrying guns.

 _Perfect._ Mercury ran at them, wielding his bat. Before either of the men could react, Mercury bashed both their heads in. As they fell lifelessly to the floor, he looked over their weapons. After a moment's decision, he grabbed a shotgun.

Making sure the thing was fully loaded, he opened the door closest to him - the bathroom. The door creaked open to reveal a thug seated harmlessly on his throne, reading a newspaper. "Hmm?" He looked up in surprise. "The fu-"

Mercury pulled the trigger, blasting the man's stomach open. His body entered its death spasms as his bowels emptied themselves. "Yeah, yeah, finish your shit in hell," Mercury chuckled, before frowning as the yells from around the corner alerted him. "Fuck," he muttered, ducking inside the room as several thugs ran down the hallway, shooting at him.

The shitting thug had graciously left his silencer pistol on the side of the sink. Mercury grabbed it and leapt back outside, firing off three bullets and grinning as they all met their mark. He casually walked over the corpses, their bloodied intestines hanging loosely out of their abdomens. He saw, through a window, a couple thugs looking for snacks in what looked like a kitchen. Mercury killed them both with shots from his gun.

He made his way around the first floor, checking through the rooms, but it seemed like there was no one else alive. _Floor cleared,_ he thought to himself. Grabbing himself a chocolate bar from the grasp of one of the corpses in the kitchen, Mercury made his way up the stairs to the second floor.

Immediately, he saw a clueless thug smoking a cigarette by the door, not paying attention to his surroundings, his machine gun hanging lazily from his free hand. _Hell yes._ Without hesitation, Mercury shot him, grabbing his gun as he fell to the floor. A horde of thugs armed with clubs and bats came rushing, yelling profanities, out of the nearby room. Mercury blindly fired a full magazine into the crowd, mowing them down like ants during a house fire. Within seconds, the walls were decorated red with blood and guts.

"Put your hands up, fuckface!" A yell came from his side. He turned around to see an armed thug come around from the corner. Moments later, another thug came rushing around the adjacent side, boxing him in. _Ah shit._ Thinking fast, Mercury leapt to his left, knocking down the thug, before rolling around the corner to dodge the gunfire. Too late, he realized he'd dropped his gun.

Panic rose in him as he heard the other thug's footsteps approaching. A glass vase sitting neatly on a desk by the wall caught his eye. _Hmmm…_ He reached out and grabbed it, before hiding back on the corner, waiting for his enemy to get closer. "Hahhh!" he yelled, turning the corner and bashing the vase over the thug's head. The vase shattered, and shards of glass embedded themselves deep in the thug's head. He screamed as shrapnel pierced through his right eye, sending blood gushing out of its socket. As his cries faded, the thug crumpled onto the floor, dead.

A pained groan from behind caused Mercury to turn around, seeing the thug he'd knocked out earlier. He walked over to him and thrust his foot up his face, snapping the man's neck with a sharp, satisfying _crack._

The thug had a fully-loaded revolver on his person, and Mercury retrieved it. He walked through the hallways, kicking opening rooms to check for more goons. He killed some thugs who were getting high and watching some shitty sitcom on television.

Eventually, he happened upon a room surrounded by glass walls, with at least six more goons sitting at a table inside. It seemed this was the base of operations, and these were the last thugs left in the building. As Mercury approached, one of them happened to turn around and spot him. He shouted something to his friends, and several of them turned and began shooting, bullets crashing through the glass, forcing Mercury to retreat.

When one of the thugs turned around the corner, Mercury quickly shot him down. He leapt out from behind his cover, seeing that two of the goons were still in the room. He fired a single shot through the glass window, penetrating both of them.

 _Three down, three to go._ Mercury ran down the hallway, seeing the remaining goons standing in close proximity as they were searching for him near the staircase. With lightning-fast reflexes, Mercury aimed the revolver and fired the last three bullets in the chamber one by one, each shot bursting the head of a goon. He grinned as the soft pink chunks of their brains spilled out from their heads onto the floor. _This is the life!_ He tossed away the revolver and wandered over to the room where the thugs had been gathering.

Disappointingly, there wasn't much to pillage from them - half of the goons didn't even have their wallets on them. Mercury let out a sigh as he removed his mask, the adrenaline of his rampage slowly fading away into irritation. That had been fun, but it had all been over far too quickly. He hoped that the next job those phone callers gave him would be much longer and more challenging. What was the point of enjoying something if it was over so soon?

As he glanced dispassionately around the room, a bag sitting on the counter nearby caught his attention. He walked over to it and tried picking it up. _Damn, it's heavy._ What were they keeping in this thing, solid gold? He opened it up and took a peek. His eyes widened as he took in what he was seeing.

Inside the bag was packet upon packet of powder, in a myriad of different colours. Some of it was red, some blue, some green, and various others. It didn't look particularly remarkable, but Mercury immediately knew what it was.

 _Dust._ This highly reactive and psychedelic drug was a rare -and very valuable - product these days. Being more addictive than any other similar recreational drug, it had long been banned from public markets for being too dangerous. Even on the black market it was hard to find any.

But this? This bag right in front of him was now the equivalent of finding the city of gold - a treasure trove in every sense of the word. Mercury couldn't even begin to imagine how much all of this was worth.

In a daze, he grabbed one of the packets and opened it, snorting the gray-colored powder into his nostrils. Almost immediately, he began to feel a dizzying feeling in his head, followed by a sharp increase in his heart rate. An extraordinary strength was building up in his arm and leg muscles. He felt like he could run for hundreds of miles without being tired, could leap high into the sky like a bullet. _Hehheheh...this is the real shit, alright!_ Ecstatic, he grabbed the bag and hurriedly made his way out of the corpse-filled building, still feeling the effects of the Dust.

The next hour or so was a blur to him. He supposed he must have taken a taxi or something, because somehow or other he found himself inside the pizzeria that was near Tukson's place. "Oh. Well if it isn't Mercury," the owner, a tanned, muscular giant of a man, greeted him gruffly. "I have the two pizzas you ordered right here."

"Thanks, Hazel," Mercury grinned, grabbing the two warm, flat rectangular boxes and balancing them on his right hand, while clutching the bag of Dust in the other. "How's business going these days, huh?"

Hazel sighed deeply. "Not many people going out to this part of the city these days," he muttered quietly, as if talking to himself. "With crime in Vale at an all-time high, it's difficult to attract customers. I might have to close shop if the situation gets much worse." On that bright note, he turned and walked over to the oven, where another pizza was currently being baked.

As Mercury approached the door with pizzas in hand, he was stopped by Hazel saying, "Now wait a moment. You understand you still need to pay for those, don't you?"

"Oh come on, just give me this," Mercury groaned. "I'm your friend, aren't I? Sure, I get you need the money, but just let me have this one on the house, man."

"Rules are rules," Hazel said bluntly.

"Fucking asshole," Mercury grumbled, forking over a wad of cash into Hazel's enormous hands. Flipping him off, he promptly exited the pizzeria and headed toward Tukson's mansion.

As he walked through the garden, approaching the door, the dizziness in his head started to fade. It seemed the effects of the Dust were wearing off. Mercury took several deep breaths, wanting to savour the last few moments of it.

He smiled to himself. Today had gone far better than he could have ever imagined. Not only had he killed a bunch of people, but now he held the key to his life in his hands. With this much Dust, there was no telling how rich he would get. He estimated it was worth millions - no, hundreds of millions! He'd never want for anything again.

Should he sell the entire load at once, or take his time? He supposed that if he put too much of the stuff on sale, its value would start to drop. And that just wouldn't do. As much as he hated it, maybe it was best for him to be patient and sell in small doses, slowly making his fortune over time. _Talk about boring...but whatever._

And once he'd made his money, he could buy a fancy car, or an expensive, opulent mansion. He'd get a whole shitload of guns and knives and go on some killing sprees of his own, without anyone telling him what to do. And then, when he'd gotten tired of it all, he could just move to some far out tropical island and live like a goddamn king, relaxing on the beaches and fucking all the beautiful women he could want. He doubted Cinder would last long for him - if anything he was getting bored of her already. And there were always plenty of fish in the sea.

Mercury couldn't help but laugh out loud. Just this morning he was wondering how the hell he was supposed to pay his rent for the month. But now? Things were looking up...

" _What the fuck are you looking at?"_ A rasping voice came from somewhere nearby. Looking up in surprise, Mercury saw a bloody corpse lying by the wall. The corpse was dressed in black, and a pair of red sunglasses lay broken next to him. It was twitching, coughing up spurts of blood, its undying eyes fixated solely on him. " _Away...get the hell away…"_ it gargled. " _You don't know...what you've gotten yourself into…"_

Mercury froze. All of a sudden, he felt like his entire body had gone completely rigid. Darting his gaze around the garden, he saw that it was littered with bodies, their blood seeping through the grass and into the soil. His father was among them, his disgusting visage little more than a mush of blood and meat. Some of them had their stomachs disemboweled, others had been bisected from the waist down...but all of them were staring, lifelessly, at him, as though judging.

Then, in unison, they all opened their mouths, and whispered: " _Trapped. Trapped. You're trapped…"_ They were all speaking in the voice of the old crow. _No. No, shut the fuck up!_ Mercury dropped what he was carrying, and desperately plugged his ears. _This isn't real,_ he thought to himself. _The Dust is still fucking you up._ Taking a deep breath, he blinked heavily, and when he opened his eyes again the corpses were all gone.

His heart still racing, Mercury walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. After a minute's wait, Tukson, a burly, amicable man with a short beard, opened it. "You finally came, huh?" he said, smiling as he saw Mercury. "Come on in then, you're right on time."

Stepping into the mansion, Mercury wrinkled his nose at how stuffy and formal the whole affair looked. A fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling, people dressed in suits and wearing masks walking in and out of rooms, long tables lined up neatly against the wall...it was all so damn boring. A real party needed blinding neon lights, ear-shattering rock music pounding through large speakers, hundreds of people drunk or high on ecstasy dancing to the beat, and that one couple camping out in the corner giving each other handjobs. Now _that_ was exciting.

Still, whatever. The hospitality was always good, and any night he didn't have to spend in his dingy apartment was a plus in his eyes. Even if he was inevitably going to be bored out of his damn mind.

"You sure have a lot on your hands, huh?" Tukson asked, noticing the large bag Mercury was carrying. "Busy day?"

Mercury chuckled. "You might say that."

"Well, at any rate, it's good to see you one more time before I move out of this damn city. About time, too. Your friends are up in the guest bedroom on the upper floor, by the way." Tukson pointed in the direction of the stairs. "Make yourselves at home, alright? I'll call you down at around nine for dinner."

"Sounds good," Mercury replied.

Clutching the pizza boxes and the bag of Dust, he made his way up the stairs to the second floor, where he found the room Tukson had pointed out to him. Swearing, he placed the bag gently onto the floor, before wrenching the door open and walking inside.

"Oh. Hey, Mercury," said Emerald unenthusiastically as he entered. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, clad in a green bra and a pair of white jean shorts, scrolling through her cell phone. Reclining beside her, Cinder looked up at him with a sultry smile on her pale face. She was wearing a thin red cocktail dress that left her long, shapely legs bare. "It appears your job went well," she said casually, flipping back her long, dark bangs.

"You're damn right it did!" Mercury exclaimed, setting the pizzas on the table nearby, before placing the bag on the luxurious couch beside it. Emerald and Cinder walked over to it in curiosity, as he opened it to reveal the packets of Dust. "Take a look - I'm fucking _rich_ now!"

"Where did you get all of that?" Emerald demanded, but Mercury ignored her. "All I gotta do is sell a bunch of this shit online, and I'll be set for life. And there's enough than I can afford to waste some of it." He retrieved a packet from the bag and opened it.

Cinder reached out and daintily picked out a packet of red Dust. Tearing it open, she grabbed a handful of the powder and ingested it. "Oh, this feels wonderful," she purred, reaching out to grab another. Hesitating for a moment, Emerald proceeded to do the same. "This feels weird," she muttered after swallowing, "...but it feels pretty good."

Snorting a packet of blue Dust, Mercury felt the extraordinary feeling from before returning to his body. Instinctively, he reached for another. As he inhaled the powder, he felt like his heart rushing so fast he was sure it would burst out of his chest. He reached for another, and then another.

In what felt like a heartbeat, more than half of their supply had been depleted. Mercury should have been enraged that he'd just cheated himself out of a potential fortune. But the sensation was just too damn good; right now he didn't care at all.

"Aha..hehahahaheha…" he chuckled, feeling dizzy. His body felt light as a feather. If he jumped up right now, he knew he would burst right through the roof and soar far up, flying into the atmosphere and beyond. All around him, the room was dissolving in and out of existence like a liquid. He turned to Cinder. "How is it, huh?" he asked.

Cinder turned, and Mercury saw that bright, beautiful flames were now surrounding her eyes. She smiled at him. "It's incredible. I've never felt quite so...powerful." He voice placed great emphasis on that last word. She held out her hand and opened her palm, staring in awe as fire spread across her arm. When she snapped her fingers, there was a small explosion of flames in the air. Cinder observed the spectacle with fascination in her eyes. "Mmm-hmmm...I wonder what I can do with this."

Wordlessly, she undid the straps on her dress, letting her garments drop to the floor. Sensually, she ran her finger up her right thigh, slowly moving it across her slender, pale body. She gently fingered the jeweled piercing in her midriff, which was surrounded by the tattoo of a black rose. Continuing, she reached into her lacy black bra, pulling the undergarment down just low enough for the top of her nipples to be seen. Finally, she put her finger in her mouth and sucked on it provocatively, as she walked towards Mercury with her voluptuous hips swaying side to side. Her flaming eyes were fixated solely on him, as she reached out her arms to put her finger to his lips.

Mercury stared at Cinder, mesmerized at her beauty. Her skin seemed to flicker into pure fire as he watched, and he felt intense heat radiating from her body. Apprehensively, he reached out and laid his hands on her waist. Though he touched the flames surrounding her, rather than burning him, they merely filled him with warmth. His throat hoarse, he stared into her eyes. The Dust was burning in his system, and his heart was still racing. He couldn't take it anymore. Aggressively, he leaned in and kissed her full on the lips.

"Hey!" Emerald protested.

Smiling, Cinder grabbed Mercury by the shoulders and shoved him onto the bedsheets. As he lay there, gasping from the impact, the vixen threw her head back and unclipped her bra, throwing it casually to the side. When she leaned in close to his face, Mercury reached out and firmly grabbed her soft pink breasts, fondling her nipples as she smothered him with lustful kisses.

After a few moments, Mercury's hands found themselves on Cinder's hips, clumsily undoing the straps on her panties. Finally, as they fell gently onto the sheets, he felt Cinder's fingers on his pants, firmly pulling down his fly to reveal the warm, throbbing shape underneath.

As she lay herself upon him, Cinder leaned back and let out a shrieking moan, her body shaking from the pleasure. Encouraged, Mercury began thrusting as hard as he could. As he made love to her, his tongue began hanging out of his mouth like a dog. Cinder leaned in, and then her tongue was on his, and the two of them began devouring each other with lecherous passion. Behind them, a sticky, frenetic noise could be heard, accompanied by a pained gasp. It was Emerald, furiously masturbating as she watched the two of them with an envious fascination.

Grunting, Mercury forced Cinder onto her back, feeling as though his body were breaking into pieces. Now approaching the end of his endurance, he bared his teeth and bit into the soft, sweet flesh of her face. Her ecstatic screams from the pain just made things even worse. Mercury could sense her grasp getting weaker by the second.

Finally, he leaned in as roughly as he could, his mind going blank as he finished inside her. "Hahh...hahhhh…," he panted. He could feel a sharp, ringing sensation drilling into the back of his head. Glancing at Cinder, he saw that she was lying motionless on the bed, the flames still encapsulating her body. _Heh. I guess I'm pretty damn good, huh?_

And despite everything, he realized he still wasn't satisfied. He wanted - no, _needed_ more. Another side effect of the Dust, he supposed.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands grabbing his shoulders from behind. Startled, he turned around to find Emerald staring intently at him. Her mouth was moving erratically, and Mercury realized she was trying to say something. "What?" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "What the fuck do you want?"

Emerald shook her head angrily and said something, but Mercury still couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear anything but the pounding in his ears. The room was spinning round and round, and he couldn't tell where it began and where it ended. Rather than wearing off, it seemed like the effects of the Dust were only strengthening as time went on.

Still lost in his stupor, Mercury looked at Emerald. Her green-dyed hair, normally in a ponytail, was hanging loosely down her shoulders. She was naked, and he found his eyes drawn to the slender curves of her chocolate-skinned figure. Mercury wondered how he had possibly found her unattractive. He reached out to touch her.

Emerald recoiled from him in disgust, yelling something he couldn't make out. Anger rose in Mercury's chest. Was she refusing him? _I won't have that shit._ Forcefully, he grabbed the girl by the hair, slamming her head violently into the desk. Emerald fell onto her back, her body fully exposed. Weakly, she muttered something.

 _She wants me. That's what she's saying._ A feral grin on his handsome face, Mercury got on his knees, and he slowly put his hands around Emerald's neck. She screamed, and this time he could hear exactly what she said.

" _STOP! PLEASE!"_

But he couldn't stop. And as he lowered himself into her, the girl's agonized screams were lost in the billowing darkness of the night.

* * *

 _3rd Scene: Siege_

"Are you _sure_ this is the right place?" Weiss asked.

"How many fancy mansions do you know in this shitfest of a neighborhood?" Yang retorted, as she dismounted her motorcycle. "Have some faith in my direction skills, alright?"

Weiss scowled at her friend. Clumsily, she loaded a round into her pistol. "Well, do you really think a house like this could be a base for criminal activity?"

"Nothing's ever what it looks like on the surface." Blake leapt out of their van, which was parked on the side of the street. "You should know something about that, 'Miss Rich Girl'."

"Why don't you shut your stupid slum mouth for once?" Weiss snapped furiously.

"Hey, come on guys, this isn't the time to fight," said Ruby cheerfully, nonchalantly revving up her chainsaw. Though she was the youngest of their group, she had fancied herself to be the leader of the team, though no one was really convinced. Still, it wasn't as if any of her friends cared for being in a position of leadership, so the honorary title had ultimately gone to her.

"Sis is right," said Yang. "So...tonight's the night, eh?"

"I'd say it's too late to turn back now," Blake replied.

Weiss shifted her feet on the ground, wrinkling her nose in disgust as mud got onto the soles of her shoes. "We're really doing this, huh?"

"You bet we are!" Ruby exclaimed. "Once we're done here, the White Fang'll have no more friends left in Vale. We'll all be heroes!"

The house they were about to raid belonged to a wealthy animal activist. Though well-respected in the community, there had recently been rumours that he was a contact of the infamous terrorist organization White Fang. Though there was no proof of his guilt, the four girls, invigorated by the reports of masked vigilantes killing criminals in recent weeks, had decided to carry out their own campaign of justice.

'Masks on, guys," said Yang, as she donned the likeness of a large grizzly bear. Beside her, Blake put on a tiger mask, which blended in well with the bow on her head, while Weiss wore the mask of a deer. Finally, Ruby pulled out a wolf mask from within the folds of her dress, and tucked it over her face.

"You can cover me, partner," Ruby offered Weiss helpfully. "We'll stay close to each other and all that. I mean, you're not as experienced with this as the rest of us…"

"Don't you dare patronize me! Father often took me on trips to his shooting range, so I know how to handle a gun." Still, Weiss reluctantly stepped closer to her friend.

Discreetly, the four girls ran up to the mansion, camping out beside the door. Blake leaned in closer, trying to listen for any sounds. "Sounds like quite the party," she remarked.

"The guy we're after is supposed to be having a goodbye party tonight - he's leaving town tomorrow," Yang explained. "For a business trip, the news said. What a bunch of bullshit! Probably heard that the press was onto his case and decided to run like a fucking pussy."

"..." Blake narrowed her eyes. "I think the noises are getting quieter. Are they all heading into another room?"

"Then this is our chance," said Ruby excitedly. "Okay Blake, you take the lead, and we'll be right behind you!"

Nodding, Blake kicked the door open with all her might. She retrieved two machine guns from her belt and aimed them directly in front of her. Inside the mansion, a small group of masked men holding wine glasses turned around in surprise. There was a momentary pause. Then one of the men opened his mouth to scream.

Blake opened fire, her bullets shredding the masked men to a bloody pulp. Suddenly, everything was mayhem, with people running for cover, screams of terror and pain, and the sounds of glass shattering . Some of the men brought out guns of their own and began returning fire. "Go!" Blake yelled to her friends. "I've got this."

"Alright! Remember guys - no survivors!" Yang ran toward a masked man brandishing a katana. The spiked rings on her knuckles dug deep into his skull as she rammed her fist into his head. Yelling excitedly, she ran around the corner and out of sight.

'Let's go," Ruby called to Weiss. Revving up her chainsaw, she made her way up the staircase with Weiss following closely behind her. The white-haired girl was glancing around uncertainly, her gun drawn.

As they reached the second floor, an obese man walked out of a room and, spotting the two girls, ran toward them. Ruby intercepted him with her chainsaw, ramming it right into his voluminous stomach. The fat man screamed in pain as his torn organs and intestines flew out of his body among a river of gore. Behind Ruby, Weiss fired her gun and shot down two thugs who were chasing after them.

With an effort, Ruby pulled her chainsaw out of the man's disemboweled corpse. "Nice shot!" she yelled to Weiss as they made their way across the floor. Spotting a group of the masked men wandering around, confused at all the noise, Weiss fired a couple shots of them, but missed. As they returned fire, the two girls took cover around the corner, and as the men approached, Ruby cut them down with her chainsaw. She bisected one man from the waist up, severing his spine with a sharp _crack._

Ruby and Weiss cautiously walked among the piles of bodies they'd left in their wake. Eventually, Ruby noticed that the sounds of gunfire below had faded. Everything was dead quiet. It seemed that Blake and Yang had taken care of the masked men below.

There was a series of loud shouts as a group of men holding clubs and crowbars rushed out from a nearby room. Behind Ruby, there was the sound of a gun going off. The two girls turned around, alarmed, to see a burly, bearded man holding a hunting rifle in his hands.

"Damn kids," Tukson grumbled. "Why couldn't you people just leave us alone, huh? Sorry about this - it's nothing personal." He reloaded his weapon.

Ruby revved up her chainsaw. "You can take him, alright?" she asked Weiss, as she charged forward. "H-hey, wait!" Weiss protested, flinching as a bullet barely missed her head. She turned back toward Tukson and began returning fire.

"Hraaaahhhhh!" Ruby yelled, running as she swung her chainsaw wildly, cutting the men into bloody pieces. One of them held his bat over his head to strike her, and she quickly kicked a nearby door, which slammed into him and knocked him down. Ruby walked over to him and swiftly decapitated him, turning his neck into red mush.

With all the men dead, she took a deep breath. _Wew._ That had been a lot of fun. She finally knew what it felt like to be an agent of justice, saving the innocent from the people who tried to wrong them. And being able to spend time with her friends just made it even better.

Suddenly, Ruby heard a high-pitched scream come from a room close to her. Surprised, she turned toward it. A moment later, she heard the scream again. _What in the world?_ She approached the door cautiously, before abruptly kicking it down.

As she entered, she immediately wrinkled her nose at the smell of something burning. She was in what looked like an opulent bedroom. The body of a young woman lay on the large bed, smoking, her skin charred black and raw. Chunks of flesh had been torn out of her mangled, torn face.

Directly ahead of Ruby was a disturbing, primal scene. A man, his body also displaying severe, hideous burns, was lying atop another woman, thrusting himself into her repeatedly as she lay motionless. Her dark skin was heavily scarred, and her stomach had been skinned down to the bones. Blood was splattered all over the walls and the floor.

Suddenly, the man paused, and he turned around to face Ruby. His face was smeared with blood, and his mouth was full of raw, bloody flesh. His deranged eyes were open wide, twitching erratically as he stared at her. Finally, letting out a hoarse cry, he lunged at Ruby.

Ruby held out her chainsaw defensively, impaling the crazy man on its edge. His feral screams stopped immediately, and he went limp. Ruby flung his body away in disgust, watching it crumple lifelessly to the floor.

Looking around the room, she noticed a large bag sitting on the couch. "What's this?" she muttered to herself, picking it up. There seemed to be some packets of a strange powder in it, and similar-looking packets were strewn emptily across the floor. Ruby decided to take the bag with her.

On her way out, she noticed the two pizza boxes lying untouched on the table nearby, and picked them up with her free hand.

Downstairs, she found Yang, Blake and Weiss standing by the door waiting for her, their masks off. "Hey guys!" Ruby said cheerfully. "So did we clear out the whole house?"

"Yup. We got 'em all, alright," said Yang, brandishing her bloody knuckles with pride.

Weiss scowled. "Why did you make me take that stupid old man by myself? Didn't you say to stick together?" Near the staircase railings, Tukson lay dead with several bullet holes in his body, and his neck twisted at a grotesque angle.

"Wait." Blake pointed to the bag Ruby was holding. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, this? I just found it lying in one of the rooms." Ruby handed the bag to Blake. She took off her mask with her now-free hand.

"This is Dust," Blake muttered as she ruffled through it. "I remember on the streets as a kid, all the gangs wanted this shit. Hard to find any of it nowadays, though."

"You should be thankful you got off the streets then," said Weiss coolly. "If you'd stayed with the Fang, maybe you'd be lying with the rest of them right now." Blake didn't answer.

Yang shrugged. "Past is the past, I guess. Well, we didn't all die tonight, so I think we should make this little team official! Anyone got a good name for us?"

"..." Blake said nothing, merely rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"How about 'Ruby and Friends'?" Ruby suggested playfully. Yang shook her head. "Aww, come on, I think it's pretty good."

"The 'Order of Justice'," Weiss proposed, to a reception of shaking heads and scoffs.

Ruby snapped her fingers. "I know. Why don't we call ourselves...Team RWBY? You know, by putting the first letters of all our names together?"

Yang just stared at her sister blankly. "Now that's fucking stupid." She turned towards the door. "Ah, forget it. We're all shit at names, so whatever. Come on, let's chill at my place for tonight. I've got some of our friends over, so we can celebrate!"

"I've got our dinner!" Ruby said happily, lifting the pizza boxes in the air with childish enthusiasm.

With that, the four girls made their way out of the mansion grounds. Yang mounted her motorcycle while Ruby, Weiss and Blake entered their van. The two vehicles started up and drove into the night, drifting through the quiet streets of Vale.

* * *

 **END OF ACT ONE**


	2. Act Two: Exodus

**ACT TWO:** **EXODUS**

 _4th Scene: Vehemence_

All life is born to seek one thing and one thing only: perfection.

And yet, to attain perfection meant to accept that true perfection was, by definition, impossible. All beings throughout history have known this. However, one species, man, chose to defy this fate, to turn their backs on this cruel paradox. And time and time again, to resolve this infinite conundrum, they had turned toward the one medium in which their sinful, irredeemable faults could not deny them enlightenment - art.

Tyrian Callows had always understood this. It was why he had woven art into his life, why he had dedicated his existence to the pursuit of that raw, undeniable beauty that all people sought. Tyrian, more than anyone, knew what true art was. For the most beautiful art pieces, he would have to use something special. He would have to use something that encapsulated the most innocent of purity and the most vile of imperfections.

Tyrian would have to use people.

He glanced down at the body of the woman who lay at his feet. The skin on her face had been peeled off, leaving a pink-red mess underneath. Her brown hair had been shaved clean. Her eyeholes were bloody, empty sockets that had come about from her pupils being violently torn out. Tyrian could still hear her deafening screams from when he had driven those needles into her eyes.

It hadn't been difficult to get into her home. All it had taken was to craft a makeshift key, open her front door, and knock her out with a blow to the head while she was washing her dishes. He had made sure not to kill her immediately - it wouldn't do for her torment to end so easily.

He didn't know who the woman had been. Perhaps he had seen her somewhere before but had never taken note of her. She may have been a waitress at the local bar he visited on the weekend, living off minimum wages. No matter what the case, Tyrian had just done her a favour. She would have been doomed to live the rest of her life an alone, boring individual lost among thousands of faceless drones. But he would make her beautiful, majestic, a symbol. He would make her existence mean something.

Tyrian took the knife and sliced through the woman's soft skin, watching as a thin line of red blood emerged from the long slit stretching from her forehead down to her abdomen. With a flourish, he carved the skin off her stomach, carefully peeling it to ensure her organs would not still out messily onto her lovely carpets. Gingerly, he extracted her still-warm intestines, tying them in a tight knot around her lifeless hands.

Grunting, he lifted up her body and, with his right hand, rammed the knife straight through her delicate forehead, embedding it in the wall. The woman hung there limply, naked, bloody scars and markings carved all along her skin. All of her toes had been chopped off and arranged on the carpet in the design of a cross.

"How lovely…" Tyrian murmured as he gazed upon his work, a smile of joy spreading across his face. "My, what a beautiful rose you are! Oh, I know you'll command the love of all who gaze upon your figure! Beauty is only skin deep, but your loveliness will be treasured by so many."

As he stood there, he felt the vibrating of his cell phone coming from his pocket. Eyes still focused on the beautified woman, Tyrian took out his phone and put it to his ear, eagerly anticipating the message.

 _Beep._

 _Hi, this is Roy, and we've got a problem at the pet store on 177 West Avenue - it looks like some birds got out of their cages and are causing a ruckus everywhere! We're understaffed at the moment, so it would be great if you could come help out. Be quick about it, alright?_

 _Beep._

 _..._

"So the next curtain rises - right on time," Tyrian chuckled.

Gleefully pondering the events of the rest of the day, he dialed 9-1-1 on his phone and yelled into it. "Yes, hello there? Yes, we've just opened our latest exhibit at 89 Lily Street. It would be great if you could check it out!" Now cackling uncontrollably, Tyrian turned off the phone and put it back into his pocket.

 _They're all waiting for me,_ he thought jubilantly, leaving the house in a stupor. Without paying full attention to his surroundings, he got into his car and drove off toward his destination. _They're waiting for me to make them all beautiful. I promise I'll make lovely art out of all of you._ Tyrian threw his head back and let out a gleeful laugh.

He reached the building, a small red affair with a weathered sign saying _Griffon's Pet Shop_ mounted atop the roof. The place had likely gone out of business many years ago, but the structure at remained intact, existing without any sort of meaning. At least, it had until a group of lowlifes moved in to make it their hideout.

Tyrian approached the front door, putting a scorpion mask over his face as he kicked it open. Immediately, he found himself face-to-face with three goons, armed with knives and crowbars. Yelling in surprise, they rushed him, but Tyrian was agile. Sidestepping their swings, he knocked down two of them onto their backs with a sweeping kick, while punching the third thug in the face, breaking his nose in two as he fell to the floor. Tyrian knelt over the downed man and grabbed his head, twisting it sideway until he heard the _craaacck_ of his neck snapping, ripping his blood-stained spine out of his lifeless body.

The other thugs had gotten back up and were lunging at him again. Tyrian grabbed the knife that was lying next to the dead goon and casually swung it backwards, slicing one of the men's throat open. As he fell down, choking on a river of his own blood, Tyrian stabbed the third goon in the stomach, tearing his still-beating heart out.

Inside the building, there were rows and aisles of abandoned merchandise lying around. Thugs were patrolling the area, and some of them were wielding machine guns and shotguns. Tyrian ran around the corner, charging toward a couple of goons who were approaching. As their eyes opened in surprise, Tyrian sliced one man's head open, causing his brains to spill out onto the floor, and plunged the knife into the other goon's side. As he opened his mouth to scream, Tyrian moved the knife across his stomach, severing his organs and intestines. Reveling in the carnage, he reached down to pick of the goon's shotgun.

On the other side of the room, a thug had stopped him, and shouted in some foreign language as he aimed his rifle at him. Tyrian blew his soft pink brains out with a blast from his shotgun. The sound of the shot attracted a horde of the thugs, as they ran in droves out of cover and toward him.

Tyrian shot down all of them with relish, savouring the sight of their blood and guts flying out of their bodies. It was a wonderful canvas, he thought, the pile of bloody, lifeless corpses lying on the floor in a sea of red.

He heard a knock coming from a door nearby. "Hello? What the fuck is happening out there?" a voice called out. Tyrian wandered over to what looked like the manager's office, where an obese man opened the door in confusion. "Who in the hell…" he gasped.

Tyrian shot him in the stomach. As the fat man's intestines spilled out, he removed the silver bracelet he wore on his right wrist and wrapped it around his neck, strangling him slowly as he bled out. Once the fatty's pained gargles had faded away, all was quiet on the first floor.

Realizing he was out of ammo, Tyrian retrieved a fully-loaded pistol from one of the bodies nearby, before making his way up the staircase to the second floor. He could see that there were far more thugs making their camp on this floor compared to the first one. Thugs were hiding out behind fancy glass walls, taking phone calls or making conversation with their fellow goons. Tyrian could see them, but unfortunately so could they.

 _Stuck between a rock and a hard place,_ he thought to himself. The pistol he was holding was silent, so he was able to aim discreetly at some thugs standing alone in some of the rooms, blowing their brains out without attracting attention. However, Tyrian soon decided that this approach was far too boring.

He saw a room with four thugs sitting at a table inside, discussing something. None of noticed Tyrian until he ran by the glass window. As they ran toward the room's exit, Tyrian shoved the door open, slamming into them and knocking them down like oversized bowling pins. A crowbar fell by his feet, and he picked it up and savagely beat the men to death with it. Tyrian smiled serenely as the metal weapon plunged through soft skin and crunched through hard bone.

Suddenly, he heard a gun being cocked from somewhere nearby. Tyrian rolled to the side as several bullets crashed through the glass windows. Picking up a machine gun, he burst out of the room, spotting several more thugs with guns running out the door of another room. None of them got past the doorframe before being pumped full of lead. Tyrian emptied out the entire magazine within seconds, reducing the men's corpses to shapeless red mush.

There was a loud _woof_ as a savage-looking hound, presumably belonging to one of the dead thugs, ran around the corner and lunged at him. Tyrian ran forward, grabbing a baseball bat off one of the corpses and bashing the bitch's head in. He gazed at the animal as it squirmed on the floor pathetically, whimpering as it bled from its head. _Savage creature,_ Tyrian thought disgustedly. Tightening his grip on the bat, he brought the weapon down on all four of the dog's legs, one by one, before leaving the crippled animal to bleed out. Its agonized squeals soon faded into dead silence.

He made his way up the next flight of stairs to the third and highest floor of the building. As he hid behind a wall, he heard a woman yelling from somewhere in a room nearby. "Kill the intruder at all costs! If any of you leave him alive, I can promise your punishment will be worse than anything he could do to you!"

"B-but Miss Raven…" someone responded fearfully, "He's been slaughtering our men like nothing! The guy's a fucking monster! He's not human!"

"Even so, he can be killed like anyone else. Now, go!"

 _So she's their big boss, eh?_ Tyrian smiled to himself. As a thug turned around the corner, armed with a hunting rifle, he bashed his skull in with his baseball bat. Taking the rifle from his hands, stained with the man's blood and brains, Tyrian wandered down the hallway.

After a moment, he encountered three thugs who were walking in single file, machine guns in hand. Tyrian fired a shot from his gun, blasting a wide, bloody hole in the first man's back. The bullet pierced through his body and buried itself in the thug walking in front of him. As the two of them fell to the floor, dead, the third thug turned around, alarmed. As he raised his gun, Tyrian threw his rifle, striking the thug in the face with such impact that his skull cracked open into pieces.

"What the fuck was that?" "He's over there! Get that asshole!" More voices came from nearby, and Tyrian could hear their footsteps approaching. He grabbed a machine gun and waited for them to turn the corner.

Several more armed thugs came running toward him. Leading the charge was a masked woman with jet-black hair, wielding a katana. As Tyrian opened fire, the woman ducked, avoiding the stream of bullets and letting the men behind her take the hits. She lunged at him with her sharp blade, barely missing him. Cursing, Tyrian turned and ran into the nearest room, frantically opening doors to get away from her.

Tyrian found himself in the bathroom, where one thug was standing by the sink, a blunt in his right hand and a beer bottle in the other. He was staring ahead blankly, too high to pay attention to anything around him. Tyrian easily walked up behind him and blew his body into pieces with gunfire, grabbing the bottle as it fell.

The masked woman was catching up to him. Tyrian fired more bullets at her from his machine gun, but she was agile and dodged them all. As a last resort, he swung the beer bottle at her right as she was about to plunge her katana into his stomach. The bottle broke into pieces as it impacted her mask, knocking her to the floor.

Tyrian knelt down by her side. He picked up a crowbar that lay nearby, and broke both of her legs with heavy swings. Raven screamed in pain as he lifted the mask of her face. "Oh, so you're one of us, aren't you?" he giggled. "Have you been getting these strange phone calls as well? How strange that they'd send me to get rid of you."

"Fuck you," Raven spat. "I followed those damn calls so I could kill weaklings, but it got boring so fucking fast. Whoever's behind all this, they're the type of people with no power of their own. They just make us stronger folk take care of their shit. So I decided I'd track them down and kill them all."

"Oh, so that's why they wanted you dead," Tyrian chuckled. "Oh, I hope you've still got some life left in you for what's coming to you next." He raised the crowbar above her head.

"Don't you get it? The people using us are nothing but weaklings. We can crush them easily if we wanted to!"

Tyrian brought the crowbar down, crushing her ribcage. "Is that all there is to you? Crushing weaklings? How boring."

"What…?" Raven gasped through her pain.

Tyrian struck her again, this time on the forehead. Blood began dripping from her fresh wound. "People like you have ruined the beauty of this art. There's no joy, no sex in murder anymore! Now it's just a business for people to use! Assassins, hitmen - do any of them really _enjoy_ hurting people? What happened to tearing people's limbs apart, one by one? What about running a chainsaw up a whore's cunt and drilling her fucking guts out from the inside?! Where did all our creativity as murderers go, hmm? " Yelling, he broke Raven's jaw into pieces with a powerful swing from the crowbar. "Without passion for our craft, we're no different than savage animals, acting only on instinct!"

Rage was filling his body. He glanced down at the dying woman. "I'm the only one left who understands," he whispered. "I've been working to bring back the art, the excitement that's been missing for so long.." He saw the hideous, fleshy mess that her face had become. "But...you...I can't make anything beautiful out of _you!"_ he screamed, fury overtaking him. He brought the crowbar down again and again and again and again. "Fucking whore!" Tyrian screeched, feeling her blood and guts spilling out onto his body. "You'll ruin me! Why can't I make you into a lovely masterpiece? You're shitting all over my perfect record! Fuck you! _FUCK YOU!"_

He took one final swing, then leaned over, panting, glancing down at the place where Raven had been. There was nothing left but a raw chunk of pink flesh, and no one could ever had said that it had once been a living, breathing person.

Despite himself, Tyrian felt himself break. He began to wail miserably, warm tears flowing down his face as he wandered, slowly, down the stairs and back to the entrance. His mind not fully present, he wiped the blood and organs off his face and clothes, before glumly exiting the building.

As he entered his car, he took out his phone, dialed 9-1-1, and put it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked as he drove away. "Yes, I'm at 177 West Avenue. Yes, that's right, I'm afraid there's been a fire, and several of our prized paintings have been destroyed. I'd like someone to come and check on the mess…"

* * *

 _5th Scene: Exposure_

Weiss reclined on the couch, glancing distastefully around the garish nightclub they were in. The music was insufferably loud and incoherent. The ravers on the floor looked more like they were convulsing than dancing. And then there was everyone screaming profanity and lewd vulgarities at the top of their lungs without a shred of decency.

"This party is awful," she said out loud.

Beside her, Yang took a swig of beer. "Tell me about it," she slurred. "Man, I fucking hate all these people. Who the hell invited them?"

"It was your idea to come over and get wasted before we headed out," said Blake, casually loading a machine gun in full view of the public.

"Speaking of which," added Ruby excitedly. "I heard we're going somewhere a bit different this time, huh?"

"Yep," replied Blake. "Got in touch with some of my old acquaintances on the streets. They've been hanging out with some White Fang thugs, and it looks like they've got a secret hideout somewhere in the city. Take the place down, and we'll deal a severe blow to their organization."

Weiss scowled. "You sure have your connections, don't you? And how do we know you won't go back to your 'friends' the moment you get the chance, hmm?"

"How do we know _you_ won't run crying back to your little mansion in the countryside, with your rich daddy and your cozy life?" Blake shot back.

"H-how dare you!" Weiss snapped. "I ran away because I was bored of all that! I wanted to do something with my life, which is more than a washed up stoner with a criminal record can say!"

Ruby waved her arms frantically. "Aw, come on guys, no fighting between partners," she said in a panic. "Let's head to the location Blake's pals gave us, and just do our job without killing each other, please?"

"Sounds good to me," Yang agreed, finishing her drink and getting up. "Oh and Blake, you don't mind if we teach your 'friends' a little lesson if we run into them, do you?"

"Suit yourself. They're not my friends anymore," Blake replied bluntly.

Nodding in solemn agreement, the four girls paid for their drinks and made their way out of the club. The sky had already darkened by the time Ruby, Weiss and Blake got the van starting, ensuring that the weapons were stashed in the back. Yang mounted her motorcycle and led the way.

After about twenty minutes of driving, they found themselves at an old, seemingly abandoned warehouse by the dock. A dim light could been seen through the front window, but otherwise there were no sign of life. The girls approached the building, their masks on and their weapons drawn, wondering how to approach their assault.

"We don't know how many there are in there," Weiss said nervously. "We can't just barge our way in every time, can we?"

"What kind of thinking is that?" Yang gave her a hearty slap on the back. "Just because you've got a pussy doesn't mean you have to _be_ one! I say we break down the door and go in guns blazing."

"Hmph! Says the one without a gun," Weiss retorted.

Cautiously, Blake opened the door and peered in. A single thug, wearing the White Fang's signature mask, was wandering the floor near the entrance, shotgun in hand. "...It looks like there's a patrol, but I don't think there's that many of them," she said quietly. "Still, probably better to try not getting killed."

"I'm all for not dying," Ruby agreed, eagerly revving up her chainsaw. She turned to Weiss and nodded. "Same tactic as before, alright? I cut people up and you cover me."

"I suppose," said Weiss, grasping her pistol. "Just don't run off on me again, and we'll be fine."

All four girls having come to an agreement, Blake kicked the door open, aiming her machine guns and blindly opening fire. The patrolling thug from near the entrance was promptly filled with bullets, his body dancing upright for several seconds before falling limply to the floor. There were loud yells as a couple armed goons came running into view, only to have their heads blown off by gunfire.

Blake ceased her firing, leaning forward to listen for sounds. Finally, she could hear some cautious footsteps coming from somewhere in the warehouse, likely worried about having their intestines pumped full of lead and meeting the same fate as their friends. Spread out," she called to her friends. As she spoke, she noticed one of her guns had run out of ammo, and she tossed it aside.

"Good luck, guys!" Yang bumped her fists together and ran off to the left. Several shouts of surprise followed by screams of pain could be heard. Nodding at each other, Ruby and Weiss took a turn right. Blake, after a moment's thought, went in the same direction as Yang.

Holding her remaining machine gun, Blake opened fire on a group of thugs that were coming out of the nearby storage room, surprised at the sudden noises. Making sure to fire in short bursts in order to conserve ammo, she blew out their intestines with her bullets before continuing on ahead.

Up ahead, Yang was fighting off several goons armed with knives and bats. She was much faster than them, and drove her spiked fists into their heads with such force that pieces of their fractured skulls burst out of their heads as they were caved in. One of the goons, a large bear-like man with an enormous potbelly, got to his feet behind her and was about to strike Yang with his own fist.

"Look out!" Blake emptied a full clip of her gun into the fat man's back. To her dismay, he simply turned around with a mildly disgruntled look on his face. Coughing up a spurt of blood, he began to run toward her.

Suddenly, Yang grabbed him from behind and, with a powerful punch, knocked him to the ground. She put her hands to his face and, grunting from the effort, forcefully pulled the man's head apart, resulting in a sickening crack as his brains split open. She looked up at Blake in gratitude. "Hey, thanks for the backup," she said.

"No problem." Blake glanced over to her right, where Ruby had forced a goon back-first into the wall, before sawing out his organs with her chainsaw. She and Weiss walked over to them, glancing around for more thugs. Everything seemed quiet.

"...That was it?" Weiss frowned. "I was expecting more of a challenge. So much for a secret hideout."

Blake shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose my contacts' information wasn't as reliable as I'd hope...hmm? Wait a minute." She suddenly stopped, frowning. "...Did anyone else hear anything?"

"...Uh, no?" Ruby cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Blake, are you feeling okay? Is the coke still getting to your head or something?"

"No, I swear I heard a noise," Blake insisted. "It came from over there." She gestured vaguely toward a room near the front area of the warehouse. The four girls went over to where she had pointed, and found a nondescript janitor's' room filled with mops and buckets. On the floor was a peculiar looking manhole.

Weiss stared at the small, covered opening. "What's that doing in here?" she exclaimed in surprise. Bending down, she pulled the manhole off the cover and glanced downward. "Hmm...it just looks like an ordinary entrance to the sewers."

"Let's check it out, just in case," Ruby suggested.

"You want us to go in the sewers? Are you insane?" Weiss protested angrily. "It's filthy in there! What do you even expect to find, anyway?"

"One way to find out." Yang cheerfully gave Weiss a hard shove, sending her flying down the manhole, screaming. The three other girls took the ladder and climbed down the manhole and into the main complex of the sewers. A disgusting odour pervaded the entire place, and rivers of dark green ooze flowed through the tunnels.

They heard a shout come from somewhere nearby. "What was that?" they yelled. "Looks like someone found us!" Another voice responded. Yang smiled as she cracked her knuckles in anticipation. "Well, well. It looks like we've stumbled upon the real hideout."

A masked man turned the corner, gun in hand. "There they are!" he shouted, aiming the weapon at the four girls. Before he could shoot, Yang ran at him with a furious shout, ramming her fist into his stomach at full force, shattering his ribcage and sending him flying into the vat of sewage. She turned back to her friends. "Come on, let's do this!" she yelled.

She didn't wait for them to respond. Life was too short to waste a single of her time, especially when she was doing something she loved. Letting out a battle cry that was almost resembled the howl of a grizzly bear, she charged down the sewer floors as two men holding guns came into view. They fired at her, but Yang didn't feel any fear as the bullets flew past her head like gusts of wind.

"Hrahhhh!" She punched the men with all her might. The first man died instantly as the end of his spine jutted out of his head, splitting his brain in two. The second was sent sprawling to the ground, clutching his ruptured chest while vomiting out his bloodied kidneys. Yang finished him off with a hard stomp to the face that squashed his head like an orange.

She could have picked up their guns, but she didn't bother. Using weaponry had always bored her. It was just so much more gratifying to do the job yourself, to personally feel your enemy's skin and bones give way under your fist. And guns and knives were just too clean, with not enough action to satisfy her.

The sound of gunfire ringing through her ears, Yang continued running. Adrenaline was pumping through every part of her body. It wasn't enough - she need even more action, more thrill. If she was to be honest, she hadn't found any interest in being some vigilante for justice like Ruby had suggested. But the promise of more people to beat the shit out of? She was totally on board for that.

She moved on ahead, leaving her teammates behind. On the far end of the sewers, she noticed that the appearance of the place was much more civilized, as she entered what looked like a kitchen with stainless steel walls, an oven and a fridge. The three goons that were sitting at the table stood up in surprise. Yang crushed one man's pelvis with a punch, and grabbed the other two goons' heads, ramming them together and causing them both to burst, becoming an unrecognizable pile of red scraps on the floor. _This must be where they hang out,_ she thought, stopping to admire the place.

From her left, she heard the buzzing _whrrrrr_ of a chainsaw. Ruby was running by the room with Weiss following close behind her. "Hey, Sis!" she called to her as they ran past. A number of thugs had been attracted by the noise and were rushing toward them. Weiss fired her pistol, blowing holes in the men's chests as they fell. Ruby sliced out the last goon's guts as she plunged her chainsaw into his stomach. She grimaced as his thick red blood and mutilated organs flew out of his chest and onto her clothes, pulling out her weapon with a grunting effort.

"That's gross," Weiss muttered, wrinkling her nose and making a vague retching motion. "Was that the last of them?"

"Yeah, looks like it," said Blake, appearing from nowhere with a bloodstained shotgun in her hands. "We did a heavy number on the White Fang today - even more than when we killed Tukson. All that's left is to destroy their tools."

Ruby grinned as she revved up her chainsaw, the blood and guts flying loosely off the edges. "Sounds good to me! Let's get to wrecking some things, team!"

The four of them spread out and wandered around the sewer hideout, stepping over piles of bodies and puddles of gore as they shot, smashed and destroyed any appliances they found. As Ruby prepared to cut down a strange device resembling an oversized pressure cooker, Blake walked over to her. "Wait just a moment," she said, pulling out her phone and snapping a quick photo of it.

"What are you doing?" Ruby asked.

"I think this is one of their machines for making more Dust," Blake replied. "If we use this and the Dust we got from our last crusade, we should be able to increase our supply by a lot. Assuming that any of us can carry it."

Yang walked over to them and, with an effort, managed to pick it up using both her hands. "Ugh.." she muttered, flashing them a grin. "I got this, no problem. Now then, let's get out of here before anyone else comes."

"Fine by me," Weiss agreed.

The four girls made their way out of the sewers. As they pulled themselves back to ground level, Ruby and Weiss pulled the Dust machine out of the manhole as Yang pushed it upward from below. They walked out of the warehouse and into the night. In the distance, several houses could be seen with lights still on, and the sounds of music drifted from the nearby nightclub.

"Well, that sure was some fun shit," Yang yawned, stretching out her arms after shoving the machine into the back of the van. "We can never get enough action, can we?"

"That's because we're the heroes - we always get the coolest stuff!" Ruby replied cheerfully. "Alright guys, let's head on home. I'm sure we'll find something even more fun to do next time!"

* * *

 _6th Scene: Catharsis_

"Okay team," said the commissioner, his face a rigid, steely glare. "Listen up. This is how we're gonna handle tonight's mission…"

Nervously, Jaune leaned forward in his seat. His heart was pounding in his chest, and beads of sweat were dripping down his brow. This was his first time participating in a stakeout operation, and he felt as though he were already dead. He listened to what James Ironwood, head commissioner of Vale Police Force, had to say.

"We've received word that the local mall over at 44 Peach St. has been taken over by criminals," Ironwood continued. "It seems the culprits are working under the regime of crime boss Roman Torchwick. The son of a bitch has been at the top of our hit list for years now, and it looks like he's finally making his way back into the spotlight. Of course, that means we have our best chance in a while of shutting him down once and for all."

"Yeah...they said that last time too, and how did that shit go down?" asked the short, orange-haired girl sitting next to Jaune, twirling her police cap on her index finger. "A whole squad of us dead, and no crime boss to make up for it."

"No interrupting, Nora," said her partner Ren from beside her. He wore his uniform as though it had been tailor-made for him, and was sitting up straight in his chair, listening attentively to the commissioner's briefing.

"We're storming the mall tonight. Our priority is to save the hostages, but shoot to kill anyone who might be affiliated with Torchwick. Our sources indicate that one of his henchmen, Cardin Winchester, is in charge of the situation. He should be your top priority."

"We'll leave immediately," announced the young woman standing next to Ironwood. She had bright green eyes and long, flaming red hair tied up in a ponytail. "Make sure you have your weapons ready before you head out."

The woman's name was Pyrrha, and she was the main reason Jaune had applied to join the police force. She was beautiful, strong and charismatic, and he'd always wanted to work alongside her, from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. Though now that he was finally getting the opportunity, he was starting to regret his choices.

 _It'll be okay,_ Jaune thought, gritting his teeth and forcing down his terror. _This'll be my best chance to impress her! O-of course, that's if I don't die...AAARGH! Don't think about that, dammit!_ He clenched his head in frustration.

"Are you alright, rookie?" Ren asked him as he and the other officers got up from their chair.

"If you're gonna throw up, make sure to do it before we get in the car," Nora suggested with a playful smile.

Jaune shook his head. "N-no, I'll be fine." He got up and followed the rest of the squad out of the police building, making his way into the car. Ren and Nora sat beside him, loading up their guns. Nervously, Jaune tried to do the same, in an attempt to look professional.

"This is your first mission with us, right?" Ren asked him curiously.

Jaune nodded. "Well, don't worry, 'cause you're in good hands," said Nora, patting him on the back with an encouraging wink. "Commissioner Ironwood is a bit of a nutjob, but we make the best of what he gives us. Stick with us and you'll survive any shithole he throws us into!"

"...Th-that's good to hear," Jaune muttered, though he didn't really feel any better.

After what felt like an eternity, the car reached the department building where the hostages were being held."It looks like you're with me. Get ready," said Pyrrha, greeting Jaune, Ren and Nora as they got out. "We're going to charge in from the back entrance, which will hopefully give us the element of surprise. I'm counting on you all to not screw this up."

Following their superior officer's instruction, the squad walked over to the door, a rusted plastic affair. "Keep out of view," Pyrrha whispered, waving at them. "On the count of three, I'll break down the entrance." She took out a long metal crowbar from her belt.

"One...two...three!" Roughly, she slammed the cowbar against the door, breaking open the lock. She wrenched it open and nodded back at Jaune, Ren and Nora. "Time to go!" she said. The three squadmates rushed into the department store, guns drawn. A veritable platoon of black-clad goons were patrol the bottom floor of the mall. Without hesitation, all squad members except Jaune opened fire on them.

Several thugs fell dead immediately. Those that survived turned around in surprise, yelling as they returned fire. The sharp sounds of gunfire immediately set off the alarms in Jaune's brain, and before he knew it he was hiding behind a shelf of Adel designer shoes, cowering and whimpering in terror. He heard an explosion from nearby as the other squad blew their way into the store, joining in on the assault. _Oh god Oh god Oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck…_

"Hey, hey, rookie! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Nora ran over to him where he lay, sobbing while curled up in the fetal position. "C'mon, get up already! We've got a mission to complete, or are you just gonna cry like a bitch all night?"

"I-I can't…" Jaune stammered through his tears. He was trembling, and he had pissed in his pants. He felt the warmth flowing through his crotch as the streams of urine flowed down his leg onto the floor, creating a small puddle. "J-just go on...w-w-without me."

Nora sighed. "Pussy. Whatever, have your own way. Maybe we'll come back for you when it's done." She ran off with her shotgun in hand, leaving Jaune to lie there, wallowing in shame and fear.

Moaning, Jaune pulled himself up as the sounds of explosions and gunfire ran through his ears, further contributing to his building nausea. Suddenly, he bent over and threw up his dinner, watching in morbid fascination as his vomit mixed itself with his urine on the floor. _What a fucking loser I am,_ he thought miserably.

Looking to his side, he noticed a baseball bat lying next to his cover, likely dropped by one of the goons. Silently, Jaune crawled over to the wooden weapon and gingerly picked it up, feeling its smooth, hard surface in his hands. For some reason, he felt his confidence growing. _Maybe...maybe…_

"Hey! It's another one of those fuckers!" Jaune looked up, and saw a thug leaning over him, a look of disgust on his face. Panicking, he quickly got to his feet and whacked him across the face with the bat. The thug collapsed to the ground, clutching his head in pain. Jaune picked up his gun, but found his fingers were beginning to shake. Just holding a gun still made him sick to the stomach, yet when he firmly grasped the bat, it felt just right. Sighing heavily, he opened the gun's chamber and emptied out the ammo, tossing it aside as he retrieved his bat and ran out from behind his shelf.

Swallowing his nausea at the sight of all the dead bodies that littered the floor of the department store, Jaune made his way up the escalator to the second floor. Ren, Nora and the rest of the squadron were still clearing out the last of the thugs on ground level. There were even more thugs patrolling the second floor, and some of them were holding hostages. Jaune sneaked behind two of them who were walking in front of him, wielding machine guns. He knocked them out with swift swings from his bat, and then emptied their weapons. He ducked into a nearby room, where he knocked out a thug that was smoking in the corner. _I could get the hang of this,_ Jaune thought, hiding behind the door.

When he saw another thug walk past, Jaune clocked him with the bat, dragging his unconscious body into into the room. He glanced out from the door, eyeing the three goons that were guarding a group of civilians, who lay bound and gagged, holding them at gunpoint. They were whispering anxiously to one another, no doubt wondering about their comrades downstairs.

 _Gotta get them away from the hostages,_ Jaune decided. He threw the baseball bat with all his might, which flew straight into the back of one of the hostage-taker's heads. He fell to the floor, and his companions glanced in Jaune's direction. Yelling, they fired several bullets at him, before running in his direction as he ducked back behind cover.

As they approached the room, Jaune kicked the door with all the force he could muster, slamming its hard surface into both of the thugs, knocking them down. Before they could recover, he gave each of them a hefty punch to the face, rendering them unconscious. He ran out the door and in the direction of the hostages, where the last thug was getting back up. He retrieved his bat from the floor and pummeled the man's head in from behind.

Jaune quickly freed the hostages. "Are you all okay?" He asked them, nervously biting his lip as he wondered what he was supposed to do now. "Um...it's still dangerous in the building, especially downstairs. Find someplace to hide until we're finished here, alright?" As the freed civilians made their way to a storage closet on the other end of the floor, Jaune ran up the staircase to the third floor, his heart beating furiously.

He was greeted by the sound of gunfire, and somebody yelling. Picking up the pace, Jaune reached the top of the stairs, where a stocky young man with a brown buzzcut was aiming his shotgun at Pyrrha, who was standing some distance away. Jaune opened his mouth to call for her, but quickly snapped his mouth shut.

"Give it up, Winchester," Pyrrha advised the man, her voice as calm as ever. "We're clearing out your men on the lower floors as we speak. You don't have anywhere to go, so just surrender quietly."

"Shut the fuck up!" Cardin Winchester yelled, spittle flying from his greasy lips, as he stamped his foot in a maddened rage. Though he had his back to Jaune, the young officer could tell that his face was clenched in fury. "We've already taken back the big houses, and once we're done here on the streets, we'll rule the whole damn city! I won't let some stupid bitch like you get in our way!" He fired his shotgun, and Pyrrha ducked to avoid the bullet.

"Hey! Get away from her!" Panicking, Jaune ran at Cardin with his bat held above his head. The stocky thug turned around in surprise as he swung the weapon, striking him in the face and knocking out his teeth with a loud _twap._ He fell to the floor back-first, the left side of his face bashed in with blood gushing out from his eye socket.

"...Jaune?" Pyrhha stared at her squadmate, her green eyes widening in shock

Overcome with blind anger, Jaune brought the bat down on Cardin's head three more times. He felt the warm blood spill out onto his arms, as the thug's body stopped struggling and went motionless underneath him. "Hahh...hrahhh…" He panted, feeling the handle of the bat slip from his fingers onto the floor.

Hesitantly, Pyrrha made her way over to him. "Um...thanks for helping me," she said, glancing at Jaune in concern. "Are you...are you alright?"

"...I-I-I'm fine," Jaune gasped, putting his hands to his head, wincing as Cardin's blood splattered onto his forehead. His brain was spinning wildly, and it was difficult for him to think straight. Some strange feeling was running through his body. _I killed him. I fucking killed him. I just fucking killed a human being._ He was sure that he was going numb.

"...Let's get out of here." Pyrrha put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "The rest of the squad should be done downstairs. We should rejoin them as soon as possible." Nodding weakly, Jaune followed after her without saying a word.

As they reached the ground floor, they met with Ren and Nora rounding up the freed hostages. "There you are," Ren called out to them. "Hey, looks like the rookie did good after all!" Nora said, grinning.

Pyrrha took out her radio and turned it on. "Hello, Commissioner Ironwood?" she said, her voice calm and collected. "We've completed our objective." "...I see," came Ironwood's gruff response. "Then have all the mobsters been eliminated."

"...All the merch has been sold out. The place is clear," Jaune muttered through his stupor. "...E-excuse me?"came the commissioner's response, confusion in his voice. "Yeah, yeah, we've cleared out all the culprits," Jaune sighed.

There was a pregnant pause. "...Understood," said Ironwood. "Good work, all of you. You've done well in helping purge the scum from this god-forsaken city. I'll be sure to put in a good word for your salaries later this month." With that, his voice faded out.

Pyrrha walked toward Ren and Nora, and the three of them were soon chatting away about the mission. Jaune however, simply stood in place, staring ahead blankly.

He had never wanted to kill anybody. It wasn't why he had signed up for the police force. But now he'd just bludgeoned a man to death without a moment's hesitation. Jaune searched inside himself for a hint of remorse, shame, guilt, anything that could justify his action, but he could find none of it. It wasn't as though he felt nothing - that would have been far better than the emotion that was flowing through him right now.

Joy.

* * *

 **END OF ACT TWO**


	3. Act Three: Lamentations

**ACT THREE: LAMENTATIONS**

 _7th Scene: Bystanders_

Boisterous music resounded through the club, while strobe neon lights everywhere flashed on and off with erratic rhythm. In the center stage, about a hundred people had gathered for the main event of the night. Surrounded by radios and loud, enormous stereos, the DJ eagerly alternated between hard rock and rap soundtracks at the audience's request, to thunderous cheers and laughter. All around the spacious room, young women hung from strings and poles, as if levitating in the air. As they danced with sultry, precise movements, shaking their wide hips and supple thighs, the men and women gathered below them yelled obscene compliments and threw thick wads of money in their direction.

There was a sensual atmosphere to the whole affair, with thick smoke being released into the air, and combined with the vibrant colours of the lights flashing on and off around the club, it was as if pheromones of lust were floating everywhere, were infecting the people partying on the floor and reducing them to their most primal, animal instincts.

On the second floor of the club, inside one of the changing rooms, the vibrant, passionate atmosphere from below was completely absent. The extravagant music and the indecent sounds of the dancers and spectators were little more than soft, muffled noises from up above, though the music could be registered as subtle vibrations in the floor. Otherwise, all was quiet in the dimly lit room as the young, brown-haired girl fiddled with her costume, as her friend helped her put it on. "Are you doing alright, Velvet?" Coco asked her, fitting the girl's legs into the tight fishnet stockings. "Ooh, this fits you pretty well."

"Y-you think so?" Velvet Scarlatina stammered, her normally pale face flushed in a shade of beet red. Gingerly, she fingered the fluffy, long bunny ears that she'd attached to her head. The headband was wrung tightly around the back of her head, and it had hurt a bit when she'd first put it on. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that one of them had flopped over slightly, and hurried to straighten it back up. "Hmmm...I'm not sure about this…"

Coco shook her head, giving her friend a soft, encouraging punch to the shoulder. "Don't worry. Those horny old fuckers out there will eat you up! You'll be an instant hit! And besides, isn't this at least better than running around town all day just looking for some boring nine-to-five job? Trust me, Velvet - this is way more fun."

"I guess," Velvet muttered quietly, shivering in her stage outfit, feeling insecure with so much of her skin exposed. The thought of so many strangers ogling her body as she danced was making her sick to the stomach. "B-but I don't think I'll ever be as good at it as you, Coco."

"You will be - well, maybe not _as_ good," Coco replied. She wrapped her arms around her friend's slender waist, squeezing tightly and giving her bottom a generous slap. "People are gonna love you, and you're gonna have lots of fans," she whispered in Velvet's ear. "Maybe one of the days we can perform together, huh? How about that...just the two of us…" She moved her hand to the girl's chest and reached into the skintight leather piece, gently caressing her soft breast. "You'll do great - I promise."

"Ahhh…" Velvet moaned, feeling turned on as Coco pinched her nipple, tugging at her flesh until the pain numbed and turned to pleasure. Instinctively, she could feel her hips moving in response to the stimulation, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. Her mind was beginning to go blank, and she was overcome with desire. She reached down to grab Coco's belt, but her friend pulled away abruptly, cutting off the foreplay. "See, just move like that," she said, nodding with a smile.

Velvet panted as her lucidity returned. She shot Coco an irritated glare, but couldn't bring herself to stay mad at her. "Thanks for the encouragement," she said, the words barely making it out of her mouth. Swallowing her nervousness, and her inflamed libido, she made her way to the door. As she put her hand to the doorknob, however, the door flew open, hitting her squarely in the face. Velvet went flying to the floor, a sharp rush of pain ringing in her forehead. "O-oww…" she murmured, looking up.

Standing directly above her was a tall, morbidly obese man of about sixty years. His greasy, bloated face was drenched in sweat, and his bloodshot eyes were opened wide, pupils darting around erratically. Drool was seeping out of his agape jaw. "Hahhh…" he gargled in his stupor, stepping on Velvet's stomach, eliciting a scream of pain from the girl. "Where'sh Mary, huh? I'ma find jat bish...Jat fuggin bish ish gonna pay for runnin out ahn meee…"

"...Boss? What the fuck are you doing in here?" Coco asked him angrily. "If you're looking for a show, get back down to the dance floor and take your fucking drugs down there, crackhead!" The owner of the club was rather infamous for getting dangerously high and causing mayhem of all sorts on his own property.

Ignoring him, the man looked down at Velvet, his face barely seeming to register what he was seeing. "Eh?" he slurred. "Well...yer a pretty shing, uhhh..?" As Velvet watched, paralyzed in terror, he knelt down and, grabbing a handful of her long brown hair, roughly pulled down her outfit. "Ahhh...no, no!" Velvet screamed as the manager held her down and unzipped his pants, his disgusting shape bulging from inside his underwear.

"Get way from her!" Coco snarled, walking over to him and forcefully shoving him off of her friend. The manager, turning his unrecognizing eyes to her, let out an indecipherable howl and pushed her way with his surprising force. Still yelling, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small revolver, waving it around maniacally, firing it into the air. Coco tackled him, struggling as she fought off the mad thrashing of her boss' arms and legs. She reached out, attempting to grab the gun out of his hands.

"RaaaaaAArRGHhhhh!" he screamed, now foaming at the mouth. He aimed the revolver and fired, the bullet barely grazing Coco's head. In retaliation, she lunged for the weapon and managed to grasp it in her hands. Grunting, she pointed the barrel at his stomach, the end of the gun vanishing into the fatty layers of his overweight chest. Adrenaline overtaking her, Coco emptied a round of bullets into her boss. Blood, organs, and chunks of pink flesh flew indiscriminately out of the holes they made in his abhorrent body. The fat man screamed his last few breaths as bits of his intestines emptied out of him, a large urine stain soaking his underwear.

Meanwhile, Velvet had backed herself up against the wall. She was sobbing uncontrollably, tears running down her cheeks in fear. _What's happening, what's happening?_ She thought, her mind a panicked frenzy. "Coco…" she whispered, staring at her friend standing over the man's bloody corpse.

"Well...so much for that idea," Coco grumbled, walking over to her friend with her hand held out. She clasped the gun in her other hand. "C'mon, we need to get out of here," she said as Velvet hesitantly took her hand. "Those gunshots probably alerted everyone down there, and I doubt we'll be welcome here anymore now that I just killed the damn owner." After a moment's thought, she went over to the back of the dressing room where she retrieved a crowbar. She handed it to Velvet. "Here."

Taking the curved metal rod, Velvet silently followed her friend out of the dressing room. Sure enough, three men bearing weapons were running down the hall and, noticing the two young women, screamed profanities and pointed at them before aiming their firearms at them. Coco quickly fired her revolver twice, bursting two of the men's heads into soft red chunks. She tried to fire again, but she'd run out of ammo. As she tried to reload, the third goon, armed with a baseball bat, ran toward her.

Velvet's mind was overtaken by panic. In a single, frenzied moment, she raised her crowbar and brought it down upon the man's head as she ran at her. The impact from the blow pierced through his flesh, shattering his skull into pieces and skewering his soft pink brains. Blood and chunks of cranium splattered out onto the floor and onto Velvet's ruined costume. "Ah-ahh…" she gasped, shaking as she felt the cold blood staining her bare skin.

"Nice one." Coco nodded approving at Velvet before running toward the two fallen goons on the other end of the hall. She picked up a machine gun that one of them had dropped, and cocked it confidently. "Oooh, I like this one. Feels just right. Now, let's, hurry. She motioned to Velvet, and the terrified girl followed after her. As she passed by the fallen men, she felt herself kneel down to pick up a shotgun, as if being moved by some primal instinct that had awakened within her.

Coco and Velvet made their way through the halls, looking for the staircase. They occasionally stopped to glance around a corner for thugs, and it soon became clear that most of the second floor had been taken up by henchmen of the goons who ran the club. It seemed that they had indeed been attracted by the noise from upstairs.

Upon seeing a gunman walking ahead of them in the hallway, oblivious to their presence, Coco opened fire, blasting the man's liver and kidneys out of his chest from behind with a flurry of gunfire. There were loud shouts as the noise attracted several more thugs, who came running from around the corner. Coco shot them all down with her remaining bullets, unloading the men's innards and guts onto the beige-coloured wall behind them. "I'll handle this - get to the stairs and wait for me!" she yelled to Velvet.

Nodding wordlessly, Velvet turned and ran in the opposite direction, only to be intercepted by another large thug who came running out of a nearby room. She let out a scream of terror and instinctively pulled the trigger on her shotgun, emptying its rounds into his stomach. The man's chest burst open and the bloody contents of his stomach spilled out onto the rug below. Sickened by the gruesome sight before her, Velvet felt a sudden rush of nausea. Her body leaned forward and she retched, vomiting onto the pile of fresh blood and guts.

She heard yelling from behind her, and she turned. Without hesitation, she fired two shots, and two more men fell lifelessly to the floor as their organs spilled out, hanging limply out of their eviscerated stomachs. Velvet's head was spinning; she could hardly think. What if it had been Coco behind her? Would she really have shot her best friend in cold blood, just like that? Without a shred of thought or remorse? She felt like throwing up again as she imagined Coco sprawled out lifelessly on the floor, her severed intestines hanging out as blood gushed from the pores of her disemboweled body.

But all that was important now was that she was alive. Whatever primal instinct had motivated her to kill was saving her. That could only be good. And as Velvet walked through the corridors with her shotgun in hand, her mind grew clearer, even as the blood rushed to her head. _Yes...yes._ This was fine - this was how it should be. This was what was good for her.

More men came running at her. Velvet fired another shot, and then another, and then another. One shot blew off a thug's arm, sending him sprawling to the ground, screaming in agony as the clutched his profusely bleeding stump, before dying in a pool of his own blood. Another shot took a man directly in his face, causing his skull to break open in a gory explosion, as bits of skin and bone flew out from every direction, staining the floor. The third took the goon's neck clean off, and as he fell his head hung limply from a strand of raw flesh, before falling loose and tumbling away to a stop several inches from the body. There was one last thug remaining, but Velvet was out of bullets. She threw her shotgun at him, and the weapon struck him in the face and knocked him to the floor. Walking over to the fallen thug with a rushing sense of abandon, Velvet grabbed him by the head and twisted it to the side, snapping his neck and causing the bones to jut out of his throat, releasing a stream of blood.

Silently, with the pounding in her brain still present, Velvet made her way to the staircase, stopping to pick up an Uzi from one of her fallen enemies. Coco was already there. "Oh, shit! Thank god you're alright," she said, smiling as she wiped off some bits of flesh off her friend's face. "...Uh, Velvet? What's with that look on your face?"

"Huh?" Suddenly, Velvet realized her mouth was spread open in a wide, manic grin, and she hadn't even noticed. _How long has it been like this?_ She quickly put her face back into a neutral expression. "I-I'm fine," she stammered, reverting to the face of a terrified young girl who had just had a near-rape experience. "I want...I want to get out of here now."

Coco nodded tersely. "Alright then. Let's go." The two of them ran down the stairs, but there was already a goon waiting for them downstairs. "Ah shit," Coco muttered, aiming her machine gun and disemboweling the unfortunate man with a stream of bullets. The sound attracted several other men, who came running around the corner only to meet the same, bloody demise.

As the girls made their way to the dance floor, they saw that there were noticeably more thugs patrolling the area than before. However, the pole dancer and partygoers were still present, oblivious to what had transpired on the upper floor. One of the goons turned and, seeing the two young women covered in the blood and guts of their comrades, pointed and yelled. Coco and Velvet raised their guns and fired at him, riddling his body with gunfire and sending his corpse flying down to the dance floor, covering the neon lights with a dark, crimson red. Many people screamed, and some immediately turned and ran for the doors.

To Velvet's right, several gunmen were running in her direction, weapons drawn. As if guided by the same malevolent force that had saved her before, she shot them all down with ease, relishing every bloody moment. It was becoming less about survival for her, and more about the euphoric thrill of the hunt, the wondrous brutality of it all.

On the dance floor, one particularly burly thug had grabbed a flamethrower, and was preparing to use it on the girls. Coco heard him cocking the dreaded weapon, and quickly turned to empty two bullets into his skull. One landed squarely in his eyeball, causing the white fluids to burst out from the sockets and stain his shirt as he fell. The young woman leapt onto his body and, with an effort, hoisted up the flamethrower and pulled back the switch, shooting out a stream of fire. The ferocious flames enveloped the people on the dance floor, goons and civilians alike, as their screams of agony tore through the night, drowning out the music. The sweet stench of burning flesh began to pervade the area.

Another about a minute of scorching everything in sight, Coco stopped the flames. A pile of charred corpses littered the floor, smoke rising from what had once been their skin. Sizzling noises and sharp cracks filled the air, as some of the bodies, still alive, desperately tried to crawl toward the exit, gasping their last few painful breaths before falling still. Eventually, everything was quiet. Looking at the carnage, it was impossible to distinguish who had been an enemy and who had simply been an innocent bystander.

"Let's get to the car," said Coco. She and Velvet quickly ran out of the building, stepping over puddles of blood and burnt bodies. They leapt into Coco's worn-down Maserati before anyone could take a second glance at the two girls soaked in blood and gore, one of them wearing a bunny outfit. Coco plugged her keys into the ignition and started up the vehicle, and soon they were cruising down the street, fleeing from the destruction they'd left in their wake.

"Whew," Coco sighed. "Now that was close, wasn't it?" She turned back to her friend, who sat wordlessly in the back of the car. Her eyes were staring blankly at nothing in particular, as if in shock. "Sorry about screwing over your job opportunity, Velvet."

"...It's alright," she murmured listlessly. "So...where do we go now…?"

For a minute, Coco said nothing. She merely continued at the wheel, speeding through the streets while going twenty kilometres over the allowed speed limit. Velvet thought that her friend had simply not heard her. Finally, she responded to her question. "I guess for now...we should return to the crackhouse. We'll figure something out once we get settled in, alright?"

Immediately, dread began filling her body, saturating her empty mind. "No…" Velvet whispered, shaking her head in violent denial. Her bunny ears, which were still attached to her head, began swinging around erratically, almost falling off. "Please, Coco! I-I don't want to go back there again! A-anywhere but there!"

"I know you feel, Velvet - really, I do," Coco replied, making her voice as calm as possible in an attempt to soothe her friend's distress. "But it really is the safest place for us right now. Yatsu and Fox and all the others will take good care of you, and we'll all lay low until this whole shitfest dies down. I might even invite some of our other friends over, how about that?"

It wasn't working. Velvet continued to shake her head, whispering "no, no, no" over and over again in a monotone, defeated voice. Coco just sighed, acknowledging to herself that there was really nothing she could do to assuage her friend's fears. _Well, I guess it doesn't really matter what she thinks._ She took out a blunt from her pocket and smoked it briefly, feeling the lightness rushing to her head. She needed it after the chaos that had just happened. Thankfully, it seemed it was over with - for now.

"Here - cover yourself up." With one hand, Coco grabbed a jacket that was sitting in the seat beside her and casually tossed it behind her to where Velvet was. Her friend graciously accepted the garment and gently put it over her bare shoulders, before lying down on her side and closing her eyes tightly.

After almost an hour of driving, the car finally pulled into the driveway of a shady-looking building on the outskirts of the town. The tall, grim structure was being overtaken by vegetation, with thick vines stretching from the roof all the way down to the ground. Wreaths of ivy covered large portions of the outside, obscuring the dull grey concrete. "Here we are," Coco announced as she got out of the car. After shoving Velvet awake, the two of them made their way to the front door.

Velvet said nothing as Coco banged on the door several times. After half a minute, a tanned, muscular young man opened it and peered out. "Coco? And Velvet?" he asked, surprised. "Well, this is a surprise."

"Let us in, Yatsu," Coco ordered him. "We might be staying for a while longer this time, just so you know." Without waiting for a response, she took Velvet's hand and strode into the building. She immediately wrinkled her nose at the stench in the air. It was hard to pin down what it really was - a melange of marijuana, semen, fecal matter, and other more indescribable things - but it was an assault on her senses from the first breath.

Ahead of them, a dark-skinned redhead with milky-white eyes standing upright by the stairs, a large piece of bloodstained glass in his hand. He was aggressively pleasuring a naked young woman, who was bending over with fresh cuts and bruises all over her soft, pale skin. Once the man was finished, he casually tossed her to the side and turned to Coco and Velvet. Saying nothing, he nodded and stepped to the side, gesturing toward the staircase.

"Thanks Fox," said Coco, making her way up the stairs. Velvet prepared to follow her. The memories of this place were starting to return - the lustful whispers of the men, the feel of foreign limbs stroking her flesh, being forced to do all those degrading, awful things...She began to shake as she thought of it.

Velvet felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Fox, who stared at her wordlessly with his blank eyes. From his pocket, he drew a strange black mask, and fitted it over his face. Immediately, Velvet felt the temperature drop twenty degrees, and the whole world went dark. Looking around in confusion, she saw the floors littered with disemboweled, bloody corpses. Gore stained the walls like rainwater. The stench of death had replaced the toxic fumes from before. "What... " she gasped.

"For a helpless girl, you're pretty good at hurting people, huh?" Fox asked, but it wasn't his voice. It was raspy and guttural, and it sent chills down her spine as she stared at his crow-like visage. "Maybe you just have a talent for this?"

"I...I was just defending myself…" Velvet murmured.

"Defending yourself?" The crow asked. "That's one way of looking at it, I suppose. But you're losing control...and soon it'll be too late. This is your last chance, I think. Run."

"Run? W-what do you mean?"

"You can run right now...make a dash for the door and never come back to this shithole. They'll chase after you, and if they catch you, well...they'll make your life a living hell. But it's only an _if_. Waste this chance...and it's a certainty."

Velvet blinked, and the world was back to normal. Fox was still staring at her, the crow mask gone. Shaking her head, she hesitantly pushed his hand off her shoulder and walked up the staircase to where Coco was waiting for her, to guide her to her room. As she entered, the stench became all too familiar to her. The walls stained with moss, the rotting mattress lying sideways on the grimy, stained floor…

Some time passed. Velvet couldn't tell how long. Days? Months? Years? It didn't matter.

Occasionally, someone she didn't recognize would come to visit her. While they were there, she was completely helpless to stop them from having their way. When they left, she remained sobbing onto her bed, until someone else came along to continue her torment. Sometimes people would leave drugs for her, and she accepted them graciously. The wondrous gifts took away the pain, the misery...and when she was at her high, and another guest came...the experience turned from agony to ecstasy. Eventually, she stopped dreading the visits, and began awaiting them with a lustful fervor. Velvet wanted more, wanted to be treated like nothing more than an object to be used…

This was all there was. This was her paradise. Despite what Coco had once said, Velvet did not want to leave. She wanted to stay here forever and ever, the one place where she could be happy…

* * *

 _8th Scene: Entropy_

Jaune pulled up to the port, parking his car in the lot nearby. It was almost dawn, and the outline of the sun could barely be seen over the horizon on the east. On the surface of the water, the cruise ship was strung to the dock, sitting serenely on the ocean as it bobbed up and down. There were no signs of life around, and everything was utterly quiet.

Putting his hand in his pocket, Jaune felt his fingers caress the cold steel of his pistol as he drew it out. Ever since that fateful night at the mall, his hands no longer shook when he held a firearm. It was like some sort of miracle cure, like he'd been blessed by some unholy angel. However, he still hadn't actually fired a gun - yet.

Jaune replayed the briefing from last night over in his mind. According to Commissioner Ironwood, the cruise ship ahead of him was suspected of being a mobile stronghold for the same criminal syndicate that had caused the incident at the shopping mall. A small squad consisting of Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora and Ren was supposed to assault the ship later that day. However, Jaune found that he couldn't bear to wait. _If I go ahead and take out all the thugs, everyone will see me as a hero._ After pussying out for most of the last operation, this was his chance for redemption.

On the ship, a narrow plank had been conveniently lowered onto the dock, and Jaune cautiously walked up the wooden platform, pistol in hand. When he reached the deck, he saw a black-clad thug standing near the edge of the ship, facing away from him. Jaune could have simply shot him with the magnum, but he was afraid of attracting more thugs. He snuck up on the thug, grabbing his head from behind and slamming it into the railing, knocking him unconscious. The thug fell limply to the deck, and for a moment Jaune simply stood there, glancing at his body. _Should I finish him off?_ There really was no need for such violence. He'd struck the thug hard enough that he wouldn't regain consciousness for several hours. Killing him would accomplish nothing.

But suddenly, the bloodied, mangled face of Cardin Winchester materialized in his head again. He remembered the joy he'd felt as he'd struck the man's head over and over, pulverizing him into bloody chunks as he'd screamed for mercy. And so Jaune grabbed the man and slammed his head into the rail a second time, with greater force. His forehead cracked open like a walnut and pink flesh came spilling out into the ocean. _Oh yeah, that's the stuff,_ Jaune thought, that joyous feeling coming back to him.

He forced himself to calm down. There was still much more of the deck to cover, and there would likely be more thugs patrolling the area. Jaune made his way around the ship, finding himself in a more spacious part of the deck. He quickly found a large barrel and ran to hide behind it. Looking from behind his cover, he saw three goons sitting on some crates, casually conversing with each other. After making sure no one else was around, Jaune leapt out from behind the barrel and shot one of the men dead, before taking cover again. The other two men yelled in surprise and came running after him, and Jaune shot one of them in the head before throwing the pistol at the last thug. As he fell, Jaune ran toward him, grabbing his knife out of his hand and slitting his throat, watching as the river of blood gushed out of his skin.

Jaune heard more gunfire come from somewhere ahead, and he leapt toward a large crate and hid behind it, feeling the force of the bullets against the cover. _Snipers,_ he judged from the sounds of the gunshots. He peeked out from behind the crate and saw the top of one of the thugs' heads pop up from behind cover. Jaune fired, and a chunk of the man's head was blown off in a spurt of blood. Mechanically, he moved up ahead, and fired again when another thug's head popped up. Then again, and again, until the deck had been cleared of thugs. Thick red blood enveloped the floor, and slowly sank into the hard wooden planks below, staining them crimson.

 _All clear._ Jaune paused for a moment, marvelling that for the first time in his life, he hadn't hesitated when handling a firearm. On the contrary, the gun felt so damn _right_ in his hands now. It was as if he was meant for taking the lives of others with his wonderful tool, as if his whole existence was killing.

Jaune opened the door on the back end of the cruise ship and walked down the staircase that was behind it. Sure enough, the inside of the ship was filled to the grim with thugs and gunmen, and even worse, several patrol dogs were wandering around the area. If a dog spotted him, no doubt they the bitch would howl like it was in heat and attract all the thugs to his location. _I'm not giving it that chance._ Jaune fired at the mutt closest to him, sending two bullets right up her ass. The bitch let out a whimper of pain as it fell, blood gushing out of her penetrated anus.

Running up ahead, Jaune took over in one of the cabins. A thug was in the room when he entered, but the young officer quickly dispatched him with a headshot, blowing his brains out. He stopped to take a relieved breath, but was interrupted by shouting from nearby. Looking to his right, he saw that a gunman had spotted him through the window of the next-door room. Thinking quickly, Jaune shot his guts out through the windowpane.

By now, he'd attracted the attention of most thugs on the ship. He could hear them running in his direction, and wasn't sure how many of them there were. Worse, he was running low on ammo. The thug lying dead at his feet was clutching a baseball bat in his rigid, dead hands, and Jaune tore it out of his grip with relish. As the thugs charged wantonly into the room, he struck them all down with the bat, one by one. But unlike before, this time Jaune refused to hold back. He used the full extent of his strength, bashing their skulls in, feeling their bones crack like sand under his swings, watch their blood and brains fly everywhere, staining the walls…

Jaune began to lose track of his surroundings - all that registered in his mind was the euphoric _thwap_ of every brutal swing. Eventually, as he finally regained his bearings, he found himself standing amidst a sea of blood and corpses, with gnashed, unrecognizable chunks of flesh and organs strewn around his feet. Caressing his bloodstained bat, he wandered through the carnage toward the stairs. There were still a few thugs left alive, either cowering in their rooms or nervously patrolling the area, wondering what had happened to their friends.

Jaune supposed he could just leave them be. But on further thought, he decided, what fun would that be? No, it would only do to leave no survivors whatsoever. So Jaune retrieved a submachine gun from one of the men's corpses, and fired into the windows on the other side of the floor, hitting the thugs with such force that their bodies practically exploded into a burst of gore. As the last two remaining goons came running around the corner in response, Jaune casually shot out their internal organs.

With everyone on the floor dead, Jaune made his way to the lower floor. He was starting to get impatient with all the pitiful, worthless hindrances that were standing in his way. They posed no challenge; they were nothing but a colossal waste of his time. _I can't believe I used to be scared of these people._ Without waiting to strategize, Jaune opened fire, instantly slaughtering a horde of measly goons that were lounging near the bottom of the stairs, painting the walls with their remains.

The lower floor had more spacious rooms, which meant it was more difficult to take cover. Jaune did not particularly mind, however. Replacing his submachine gun with a fully-loaded one, he continued his rampage, killing everyone in sight without a care in the world, entering a room and then leaving it with human organs and blood decorating the walls and floor. It had initially been exhilarating, but now he was starting to get bored of it. It was really just the same thing over and over again. Perhaps a change of pace was in order, something to relieve the dull, droning monotony of recent events.

He didn't realize it at first, but eventually he had cleared out the bottom floor, too. _That should be all of them._ Jaune made his way back up the stairs, ignoring the aftermath of the massacre he'd left in his trails. When he reached the deck, he could hear the wailings of police sirens, and sure enough, several police cars were waiting for him as he descended from the plank.

"There you are!" Pyrrha walked up to him, her face contorted in anger as she reached out to grab him. "What in the world were you thinking? You know you were supposed to wait to assault the ship with the rest of our squad."

"I already completed the mission," replied Jaune, wiping blood off his brow. "Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

" _Thanking_ you? Are you insane?! You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse, compromised our entire operation!" Pyrrha shook her head in disbelief as she took her phone out of her pocket. "Sorry about this, but I'm going to have to call the commissioner and report what you've done. If you're lucky you'll just be suspended from duty for a few months." She dialed a number and put the phone to her head.

"...Hello? Commissioner Ironwood, sir? ...Yes, that's right. Officer Arc disobeyed direct orders and went to the mission site ahead of time, all by himself. It seems that he managed to kill everyone inside, and could very well have endangered our mission had he failed…" She paused as the voice on the other end of the receiver responded. "...What?" Pyrrha gasped. "A-are you sure about this? ...Alright. Fine, as you wish." She turned off the phone.

"The commissioner…" she sighed as she reluctantly moved her gaze back to Jaune. "He says he wants you back to the headquarters immediately. And...he says you are to be considered for a promotion as a reward for your actions in service of justice today." Pyrrha turned toward the cars, gesturing at the officers to stand down. "Let's go, then."

Jaune just stood there, stunned. _I'm getting...promoted?_ It sounded almost too good to be true. Perhaps all of his training, all his determination had truly paid off after all! But even as joy began to fill his heart, anger was seeping into his mind.

 _That damn bitch._ To think that Pyrrha would still ignore him - hell, even show him such disdain - after everything he'd done just to impress her! His blood boiled as he thought of how ungrateful she was toward all of his hard work. Well, it didn't matter now. Jaune wasn't a wimp anymore. He was strong, and soon Pyrrha would know his strength and learn to finally respect him, and adore him. And if she still didn't...he could always just force her to. He had that power - he knew that now.

Jaune shook his head angrily and followed after Pyrrha, thankful to have it all over and done with.

* * *

 _9th Scene: Collision_

"...Damn it!" Weiss delivered an angry kick to the back of the van. A shot of hot oil burst out of the exhaust pipe, staining her dainty white dress. She cursed furiously as she scrambled to wipe off all of the sticky black substance, jumping away from the accursed vehicle with a glare. "Why won't this stupid piece of crap work?!" she muttered.

The van did not respond.

Weiss turned and stomped her way back into the garish nightclub, where her friends were waiting for her at a table. "Well?" Yang asked her. "Did you get it fixed?"

"No!" Weiss snapped. "That old piece of junk must be, like, fifty years old or something! It won't budge one bit!"

"Or maybe you just can't fix anything to save your life," Blake replied with a dismissive sneer.

Weiss glared at the dark-haired girl. "Oh, I'm so _sorry,_ " she spat. "If I'm so inept, then why didn't a mechanical genius like _yourself_ go fix the damn truck , huh?!"

"Because it was my turn to fix it last time."

Ruby shrugged her shoulders, sipping her beer with an enthusiastic glint in her eyes. "If ish broken, ish broken," she said as she swallowed her drink. "We'll just have to take some other way there. It's not that far away...uh, actually, where are we going again?"

Yang proudly brandished her cell phone. "An old friend of mine from Beacon Academy called," she explained to the group. "Wants to invite me over to a party of hers. Seems like she's gotten herself involved with some...well, unsavoury people since we last met. I say we go over there and give her boring-ass party a bit of spice, y'know what I mean?"

"Unsavoury?" asked Weiss. "Define 'unsavoury'."

"Uh...drugs, torture, rape, all that stuff?" Yang shrugged. "I'm just assuming here, but from what I've heard it's nothing but bad news with these guys. I bet they've profited a lot from that big syndicate getting toppled recently. No one's left to hold them down...at least that's what they think. But I say we show them otherwise."

"Sounds good to me," said Blake.

"For once, I agree," Weiss spat. "Filthy scum. They're all going to pay for the things that they've done, and I want to make sure they get what's coming to them."

"But how are we gonna get there?" Ruby asked. "The van's still a no-go."

Yang put her hand to her chin, thinking over her sister's question. Finally, she snapped her fingers and pointed at Weiss. "You got here in that fancy car you stole from your pop, huh? That thing's big enough to fit all of us - let's just use that?"

"Absolutely not," the rich girl protested. "That's _my_ car, and I'm not letting you turn it into a wreck like your stupid van!"

"Alright, fine then. You got any better ideas, Miss 'I'm-Totally-Gonna-Make-Them-Pay'?"

"..." After a full minute, Weiss finally stormed away from the table, feet stomping furiously on the floor. She shoved Yang aside as she passed by her. "...I'll get our ride ready," she muttered, acknowledging her defeat. Yang and Blake finished their drinks and followed her out. "Grab the stuff!" Yang yelled at Ruby as she exited the club.

Sighing, Ruby knelt over to grab the large duffel bag that sat by her chair. It was fairly heavy, but she was strong enough that she could handle its weight with one hand. The bag was slightly unzipped, and part of a mask could be visible through the opening. Grunting with the effort of lifting the load, Ruby made her way toward the exit, where her friends were waiting for her. They were standing next to a large, sleek white Lamborghini with light-blue streaks, an open roof and wheels that glowed blue in the dark.

"Alright guys," she said. "Put on the masks and we'll be off, just like always." Her teammates obliged, but as they reached into the bag and pulled them out, Ruby noticed that the masks looked strangely different from usual. She couldn't exactly put her finger on what the problem was, and simply stared as the other three girls fitted the masks over their faces. "So?" Ruby asked. "Is everyone ready?"

"..." The girls were silent. "...Guys?" Ruby frowned. And suddenly, the world around her froze. When she blinked, all the lights around her - the windows of the nearby buildings, the traffic lights, the eerie glow of the full moon, all of it had been extinguished. All was darkness except for the crimson red light being let off from the eyeholes of the three identical crow masks that her friends were wearing as they stared wordlessly at her.

Finally, they spoke, one by one. "I was raised outside the Kingdoms," said Blake, her voice utterly devoid of any emotion. "If you can't fight, you don't survive."

"What's wrong with you?! You're supposed to be a leader, and all you've been so far is a nuisance!" said Weiss.

"Sometimes...bad things just happen, Ruby," said Yang.

Ruby shook her head, pinching at her neck in terror as she wildly denied what was happening directly in front of her. _What's happening? What's happened to them?_ She thought, her mind whirling. But when she looked up again, she saw that everything had already returned to normal. Weiss, Blake and Yang were wearing their usual deer, tiger and bear masks respectively, and the scenery had reverted to that of a normal, nighttime city, with the sounds of revelry and disorder establishing dominance over the ever-busy streets. "Hey, are you alright?" Weiss asked. "You look really pale."

"What, have you _met_ Ruby? She's always pale as a sheet," Yang chuckled. "Not as bad as she used to be, though. Back in the old days I'd even mistake her as a ghost or zombie or some shit!"

Ruby just rolled her eyes, trying to force her heart rate back to normal after that strange experience. _Just a hallucination...it wasn't real. Man, what crazy drug did Yang make me take this time?_ Shaking her head, she got in Weiss's Lamborghini while putting on her wolf mask. Ruby and Weiss took the passenger seats while Blake and Yang sat in the front, with the latter at the steering wheel. "Ohh, this thing feels just right in my hands," the blonde chuckled. She turned her head to face Weiss. "You don't mind if I drive, right?"

Weiss shrugged resignedly. 'Do your worst, bimbo."

As the car pulled out of the parking lot, Ruby looked in the duffel bag, which still held several bags of a thick, colourful powder. "What's this?" she asked.

"The Dust you found during our first stakeout," Blake replied. "Except I was able to make some more of it - a more potent dose. I figured we might want to take some as congratulations for our work, once we've killed everyone in the building.

"Good idea," said Ruby, smiling. "I've heard this stuff is really strong...ooh, I can't wait to try it out!"

"It's pretty great. But be careful with it, though. Dust's got some nasty side effects if you take too much...including - but not limited to - a violent, painful death."

"Oh, that sounds even better!"

This sort of amicable, but ultimately aimless and vapid conversation continued within the walls of the Lamborghini for the next hour or so, until Yang declared, "Here we are, guy!" and pulled into the lot of a tall, ominous-looking building in the middle of supposed nowhere, with thick growths of vines and ivy covering most of the walls. The four girls hopped out of the car, marveling at the foreboding spectacle ahead of them.

"Well, this place just screams 'place for evil gatherings, be wary of our sinister ways,'" Weiss grumbled, pulling up the trunk of the car and retrieving her pistol. The rest of the girls followed her lead and grabbed their weapons. As Yang put on her spiked gauntlets, which were still covered with drops of dried, cracked blood from their previous heist, Ruby passed by her with the duffel bag. "Hey, hey, sis! Hold up," she said, reaching her hand into the bag and pulling out a packet of Dust. "Lemme have one of these."

"Wait, we're not supposed to take them until after the mission!" Ruby protested, as her sister opened the packet and swallowed all of the powder in a single ravenous gulp. "C'mon, sis...every time you get high you can't think straight! You're just gonna get yourself killed if you do it now!" Yang just shook her head, taking a deep, exhilarated breath as she turned her frenzied eyes to Ruby. "Phew...now that's the good stuff," she murmured. She grabbed another packet from the bag and shoved it in her sister's face. "Go on. It's your turn."

"B-but…" Though she protested, Ruby's curiosity was overtaking her. She had still yet to take this 'Dust' that her friends had spent so long talking about, and the desire to try this wondrous miracle substance was rapidly overriding her self-control. She gulped, and before her mind could convince her that it was a bad idea, she opened the packet and poured the crimson red powder into her mouth. Immediately, her tongue was overcome with a taste that was both savagely bitter and sweet as candy. "Wh-whoa…" Her head began spinning, and as she touched the hood of the Lamborghini, her hand phased right through the sleek white metal like it was water. _It's so cold..._ For some reason, she found the sight hilarious, and before she knew it she was laughing hysterically.

Yang chuckled. "It's good, isn't it? C'mon, you guys!" she called to Blake and Weiss, who had come running around to see what Ruby was finding so funny. "Will you shut up?" Weiss snapped at her. "The people inside are gonna hear you, and then we'll all be screwed!"

"Here." Yang tossed them both packets of Dust. "Take it - for good luck!"

Blake shrugged. "Fine. I was going to wait until after we were done, but one packet isn't much compared to what I'm used to. I can take it." She opened the packet and took a long, indulgent snort of the stuff inside. Beside her, Weiss glanced around at her teammates, uncertainty on her face. Eventually, peer pressure got the better of her, and she followed Blake's example. "Urgh... " she muttered, stumbling over herself as the high kicked in all at once.

"Now we're talking," Yang grinned. "Now that we're _really_ prepared, let's get in there and kick some ass!" The four girls made their way to the front door. As usual, Blake pressed her ear to the door and listened. "...I don't hear anyone," she said. "We should be able to break in without any resistance. Hey...should the two of you really be together?" She was frowning at Ruby and Weiss, who were erratically swaying in place, their eyes blank and sagging as a result of the Dust's effects.

"We'll totally be fine," Weiss slurred.

"...If you say so." Without further delay, Blake kicked open the rusted iron doors to the building, and the four of them rushed inside with their weapons drawn. For a moment, panic overtook them. Despite what Blake had said, the building was filled with people. Thankfully, it soon became clear they were all far too drunk or high to pose any challenge to them. Many of them were naked, and covered in grime, blood and other foul substances as they lay deliriously on the floor. A couple of them glanced in the girls' direction, but their dead eyes registered no emotion or surprise.

Though they didn't seem dangerous, the four girls were not swayed. Blake immediately opened fire, her two machine guns tearing limbs apart as she shot down the helpless druggies by the dozen, filling the foul stench of the air with the scent of copper as the floor was covered in an ocean of blood. None of the victims seemed to struggle or even care as they and their companions were shredded into bloody pieces. Once they were all dead, Blake ceased her assault. "Well, that was easy," she said.

"So now what?" Ruby asked, her mind still spinning as she staggered through the lobby, being careful to not trip over any of the bodies. "We've still got the whole building to clear!"

"Let's all split up!" Yang suggested. "Let's all take a floor and beat the shit out of everyone at once! These pussies won't stand a chance against us!" None of the other girls had any objection to the idea, so after quickly determining who would take which floor, Weiss and Ruby took the elevator to the top floor, while Blake and Yang ran up the stairs to the second. When they reached the floor, Yang continued to run up the stairs to the third level, yelling "Good luck!" at Blake before running out of view.

Now alone, Blake reloaded her machine guns. "Ugh…" she muttered, grasping her head suddenly as a wave of nausea swept over her. _It must be the Dust._ It seemed that the dose was more potent than she'd thought. Despite her best efforts to maintain her endurance, she could feel herself slipping, as the room itself began spinning around her. A dull, numbing sound rang through her head, getting louder and louder until it was a maddening screech, tearing her skull apart from the inside. Blake wanted to scream - she couldn't take any more of it.

Then, she blinked, and her mind was clear again. She looked around her, realizing that the room had been replaced by a lush, spacious forest, with droves of tall trees adorned with beautiful scarlet leaves swaying in the wind. As Blake wandered through the forest, admiring the scenery, she heard a growl from beside her. She turned to near a large black wolf lunge at her, and reflexively fired into its chest, killing the beast. To her surprise, her machine guns were now a pair of dark gray cleavers, with pistols built into the hilts.

More black creatures appeared before her, and Blake began swinging her new weapons, slicing them into pieces as she leapt around them with far more agility than she was used to having. Every time she killed a beast, it let out a final death cry before disintegrating into black Dust and fading away.

Suddenly, Blake felt a shadow loom over where she was standing. She leapt back just as a large red droid landed with a _thud_ where she'd been standing a moment ago. The robot, built in the shape of a red fox, howled at her as it aimed its tail cannon and fired a laser. Blake ran from the beam and returned fire at the droid, causing it to howl in pain as the bullets impacted its hard shell. The robot lunged at her with the large blades attached to its front limbs, but Blake leapt onto its back as it approached her. Noticing a weak spot in its armor, she shoved the edge of her cleaver into the exposed chink, and a spark of electricity flew out as the droid screeched.

Blake was blinded by a sudden explosion that flung her backward into the ground. As she landed, she got up and saw that she was back in the building, surrounded by a pile of bodies. _What in the world just happened…?_ She took out her walkie-talkie and called to her friends. "The second floor's all clear. I'll meet you at the top!"

Meanwhile, on the third floor, Yang found herself leaping across the floor of a strange, monochrome-shaded nightclub, punching and kicking her way through a horde of grizzly bears clad in pitch-black suits, blending into the darkness of the room. Loud rock music that she'd never heard before was pumping through her eardrums. Her spiked gauntlets looked different now - they covered her arms all the way down to her elbows, and shone like gold. From them, she could fire red shotgun shells that burst into flame as they contacted her enemies, making them explode into colourful bits. _This is the life!_

As she killed the last of the suited bears, blasting a hole in his chest with a punch, a larger bear with an enormous, jagged blade in place of its right arm leapt down to the dance floor. Unlike its brethren, this one had pitch-black skin and molten-red eyes. The beast howled and ran toward Yang with its arm blade held forward. The blonde fighter dodged the attack and swung her fist into the bear's face, firing once as she felt it make contact. The monster's face burst into chunks with an ear-shattering _bang,_ smearing Yang's face with blood. She recoiled backward and blinked rapidly, trying to get the red fluid out of her eyes. Once she'd regained her bearings, she looked around in confusion. The nightclub had been replaced with the dilapidated scenery of the crackhouse, with wet mold staining the browning walls. At her feet was a young man clad in a pale-green robe, a sword clenched in his hand. His head had been crushed into a soft pink mush that had spilled out over the floor. Several other bodies lay mutilated around him.

Shaking her head in confusion, Yang turned her back to the carnage and made her way toward the top floor. At her destination, Ruby and Weiss were busy fighting for their lives. All around them, a howling blizzard blanketed the world in snow, as horde after horde of black wolves charged at them blindly. As they approached, Weiss shot them down with her weapon, which was no longer a pistol but a bizarre silver sword with a revolver chamber built into its handle. Instead of bullets, it fired rays of what appeared to be Dust that exploded on contact. Ahead of her, Ruby's chainsaw had become an enormous red scythe, and the girl was slashing through the beasts with ease, laughing gleefully all the while.

Without warning, the snowy forest they stood in disappeared, and all was darkness. As the two girls walked across the glassy marble floor, a single ray of white light shone down from the window above, illuminating the silhouette of a large knight. The armoured beast slowly stood up, carrying its weapon in its hand - not a sword, but a heavy gatling gun that fired at the girls with a downpour of ordinance.

Weiss and Ruby rolled in opposite directions to avoid the attack. Ruby ran at the knight, jumping off its gun and swinging her scythe, decapitating the monster with one clean slice. Even without its head, the knight simply knocked the girl aside with the force of its weapon. "Ruby!" Weiss yelled, jumping toward the knight with a rush of inhuman speed. She drove her sword deep into its armored chest, and the monster collapsed into a lifeless suit of armour as she pulled it out.

"Are you alright?" Weiss walked over to Ruby and helped her up. Looking ahead of them, she saw that a white door had appeared, seemingly from nowhere, in the darkness. Limping, they made their way to the door and opened it, stepping into a worn-down room. The atmosphere reeked of neglect, with fat cockroaches skittering across the floor, rotting garbage and flaps of rubber littered everywhere, and a putrid stench pervading the room.

In the corner, a skinny, brown-haired girl lay naked on a moth-eaten mattress, scars and bruises covering her emaciated body. "H..huh…?" Weakly, she turned to Weiss and Ruby as they approached her, their weapons back to normal. Her eyes were opened wide and bloodshot, seeing nothing. "Wh-who are you? Please, I-I'm on break right now…"

Behind Weiss and Ruby, Blake and Yang came into the room, joining them. Blake had swapped out her machine gun for a crowbar. "Who's this?" Yang asked, cracking her knuckles.

"I dunno," Ruby shrugged. "I think she's the last of them, though." She grabbed the broken girl and dragged her onto the floor, before raising her chainsaw as the blades whirred to life. The girl began to cry. "Wait, no...w-where's Coco? Sh-she hasn't been around lately...i-if you see her, can you tell her that her friend Velvet misses her? ...Please…?"

Ruby brought the chainsaw down. The blades cut messily through Velvet's soft legs, tearing the ligaments of her shins and crushing her fragile bones with a _crack_. Velvet screamed as her blood flowed out of her wretched body, the weapon making an almost sexual squelching sound as it sawed through her flesh and severed her fragile limbs. Blake walked over to Velvet and swung her crowbar, dislocating a hefty portion of her skull. Blood and pink bits of her brain began leaking from her head. Weiss and Yang pummeled her chest with kicks and punches, striking her body with enough force to crush her ribs and internal organs. "Please…" Velvet moaned as she coughed up a spurt of thick blood. "I...I want to go home…."

Ruby was finished with Velvet's legs, and proceeded to ram her chainsaw into the girl's quivering slit with all her might. The girl was already too far gone to even scream, and simply gasped pathetically as the sharp blades penetrated her, ripping and tearing her apart from the inside. With an effort, Ruby shoved the weapon through Velvet's stomach, causing her body to burst like a pinata of rotten flesh and organs, splattering her killers with her blood.

Ruby wiped her brow, flicking off some bits of Velvet's flesh. "Whew," she muttered. "I guess that's all of them...so I say we get out of this gross place right now."

"Sounds good!" replied Yang. "That was one hell of a night, guys. Let's head back to my place and get hammered, shall we?"

The four girls made their way to the elevator, going back down to the ground floor. They exited the foul structure and sighed in relief as they finally breathed in fresh air again. Yang leapt into the driver's seat of the car, and Blake sat beside her. Ruby and Weiss sat in the back, where Ruby found herself leaning against her friend's shoulder. It felt...actually pretty good.

"Here." Weiss gently wiped off the last of the blood from Ruby's face. "There, now you don't look so gross." Despite herself, Ruby blushed a little. "Hey…" she murmured, smiling at Weiss. "Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it."

Weiss smiled back. "No need to thank me. That's just what friends do for each other, right?" As Yang started up the car, the white-haired girl gave her partner a light pat on the head. "Just remember - you owe me one now."

The Lamborghini rode through the night.

* * *

 **END OF ACT THREE**


	4. Act Four: Gospels

**ACT FOUR: GOSPELS**

 _10th Scene: Sabotage_

"This our big day, boys!" Roman Torchwick announced. "Today, we take back what's ours!"

In the dimly lit room on the eleventh floor of a high-rise condo building, a crowd of black-clad men gathered around the kitchen table with glasses of cheap champagne in their hands. All around them lay cardboard boxes filled to the brim with every form of weaponry imaginable, from knives to shotguns to assault rifles. Sitting cross-legged on the table, pointing his hunting rifle in the air, their boss was making a rousing speech while dead drunk.

"Those White Fang lowlifes have held us down...humiliated us...hindered us for far too long!" Roman yelled as he smashed his champagne bottle onto the table. "For years we've been trapped at the bottom, wallowing in debt, wasting what little dough we had on crack and hookers...and it seems like those peasants decided that they could mock us by taking us under their wing. Now isn't that just _sweet_ of them?" As he said that, his voice dripping with sarcasm, the men around him shouted in agreement.

"Well, that all ends today. We've bided our time over the years, letting those Fang fucks have their way with this cesspool of a city. They've built their little empire, and we've been helping them every step of the way. And now, I say it's time for a little recompense! Time to take back what's rightfully ours!" Roman raised his bottle. "They're gonna know just who they've been fucking all these years, because we're gonna fuck 'em back ten times harder! Today, the Syndicate rises again!"

His men cheered, and they all clinked their glasses together in camaraderie before taking a generous chug of their drink. In that moment, the cheap, dollar-store champagne was as wonder and as sweet as hundred-year-old fermented wine.

"Remember the plan," said Roman. "We break into their bank, and take everything for ourselves. Now, be professional and avoid civilian casualties, but take hostages if it helps. And of course, if we run into White Fang or some cocksure cops with their heads up their navy-blue asses...be sure to leave no survivors."

Everyone gathered around the table nodded, and each man picked up a heavy box of weaponry as they exited the apartment. Roman followed his men, but not before taking his favourite bowler hat and cane, as well as a packet of La Aroma de Cuba cigars, just for good luck. He'd need it for the mission - one wrong move and all of them would end up in the back of a police car, in body bags, or both.

The delivery van waiting for them outside the building was just barely large enough to fit all two dozen or so of the gang members. Some of them had to practically squeeze their way in, their arms and legs placed firmly at their sides, and found that it was too tight to even move around. "Try not to suffocate while you're in there - I need every man up and ready the moment we arrive!" Roman yelled at the writhing mass of bodies as he slammed the back door shut. Not wanting to take the risk of suffering oxygen deprivation himself, he got into the seat of the van and promptly started up the vehicle, driving through the streets of Vale like any normal delivery truck.

A half-hour drive led him to the front of the Vale National Bank. Stopping in front of the place, Roman squinted through his van's window and surveyed the general area. There were cops wandering leisurely around the main entrance - more than likely the White Fang were feeding them right out of their fat, greasy pockets. No doubt the fat men in suits that waited inside the building were also their bought, loyal servants. _Well, they're going to learn who the real boss is soon enough._

Roman picked up his rifle from under his seat, cocking it and making sure the thing was locked and loaded. _Alright...let's get started._ He wasn't exactly in the mood for a stealthy, clean bank heist today. A botched sneak operation was pretty much the worst thing that could happen in the life of a criminal. Even if you got fifty bullets in the chest during a shootout, at least you knew what you were getting into. No, he had something else in mind.

Slowly, he turned the van around, until the front doors of the bank were directly in its line of sight. Roman smashed his foot onto the gas, and the van lurched forward, driving at maximum acceleration. "H-hey! What the fu-" one of the cops screamed as they saw the vehicle rushing toward them. There was the loud _crunch_ as the van ran into them, crushing their bodies into soft, pink paste and fragmented bones.

Roman didn't slow down. The van crashed straight through the doors, shattering the glass as shrapnel flew in every direction. There were screams from the people inside as the large delivery vehicle suddenly screeched to a halt in the middle of the front entrance, centimetres away from hitting somebody. After the initial moment of shock, the panicked civilians began clearing out of the bank, as Roman grabbed his rifle and leapt out of the truck.

"Greetings, everyone!" He shouted, firing his weapon wantonly into the air. The back of the van opened and his men came pouring out, clutching their shotguns and assault rifles and aiming them threateningly at the people unlucky enough to still be in the building. "Consider yourselves blessed, because you've been granted the chance to be present for the grand return of Roman Torchwick! You should all rejoice, because today is the last day the White Fang scum rule this city!"

"F-fuck you!" One of the men standing at the information desk stammered, drawing a measly pistol from his pocket. "You don't know shit! You'll never take down the Fang!" Two gunshots rang through the air, separating the man's liver and kidneys from the rest of his body. More terrified screams rang out as he fell back, a thick stain of scarlet blood decorating the wall behind him. As he watched with a satisfied smile, the sound of shouting filled Roman's ears from behind. A fleet of police cars had pulled up to what was left of the bank's entrance, and several cops had gotten out, screaming at him to get down and surrender.

 _How boring._ "Hold them down!" Roman ordered, and his men opened fire on the police, tearing bloody holes in their pristine blue outfits and blowing out their pink brains. A grenade landed next to one of the cars, blowing it up and setting several of the cops on fire. Screams of agony filled the air as Roman turned away, humming softly to himself. "You all, come with me," he said, pointing randomly at three of his men. "We're going hunting."

His men obeyed him without a word, and the four of them made their way out of the entrance room. Walking through the halls of the bank, Roman motioned for his men to spread out and cover as much of the floor as possible. "Kill them all!" he ordered them. "We've gotta send those fucks a clear message." Once he was alone, he pulled out a cigar and took a generous, indulgent smoke. Tossing it to the floor and smushing it under his foot, he walked into the nearby office room with his rifle in hand.

A masked White Fang thug was conversing with two of the bank's suited employees. "We'll have the next payment made to you by the weekend," the thug growled. "Just make sure the mayor agrees to giving us the city hall and you'll be - hey wait, who the hell are you?" They had noticed Roman.

"Your loyal servant." Roman opened fire, splattering the men's guts onto the tables, floor, and cabinets across the room. Bullet holes embedded themselves in the wall as they pierced through their fragile bodies. He walked over to the thug's body, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a set of keys to the bank vaults. "Why, you're too kind," he chuckled, picking up the two akimbo guns clutched in his hands. With that done, he made his way out of the room.

By now, they had attracted the full attention of the White Fang thugs inside the bank, and droves of them were now running down the stairs. Roman gave them a warm welcome, spraying streams of bullets from his guns, firing in the general direction of the thugs as they approached the bottom of the steps and hoping they made contact. The masked men dropped like flies, forming a pile of corpses and the bleeding organs that had been shot out from their bodies. He could hear more gunfire from nearby, most likely his men contending with more of the Fang's mooks.

Roman casually stepped over the pile of bodies, being careful to not get too much blood on his shoes as he walked up the staircase. The sound of the alarm bells was ringing in his ears, and he concentrated on listening for approaching thugs. "Freeze, motherfucker!" A voice yelled from beside him, and he quickly turned and shot the masked thug that had appeared from around the corner, blowing his head into pieces. Looking around the corner, Roman saw several other men approaching, and he leapt in front of them while firing wantonly, flooding the corridor with their blood.

On the second floor now, Roman made his way to where the main vault was. Sure enough, the door was shut tight, and he could tell just from looking at the hefty, gold-plated piece that no bullet or explosion would be able to wrench it open. _There's gotta be a computer that controls it somewhere._ He decided to explore, and began moving from room to room, occasionally bumping into a stray White Fang goon who promptly had their intestines severed, their kidneys blown out, or their stomach violently emptied out onto the floor. From one of the bodies, Roman retrieved a neat-looking katana with a ruby hilt.

He found the central computer in a stuffy boardroom that looked as pristine and sterile as a quarantined laboratory. As he entered, several SWAT officers burst into the room from the windows, shattering them with loud crashes. Caught off guard, Roman swung his katana, bisecting the first cop from the waist up, feeling the _crunch_ of the blade sawing through bone. He stabbed the second one through the heart, the sword's edge piercing through his gut with the man's severed guts dangling off the tip. As the last officer raised his gun to fire, Roman swung the katana again, cutting off his head and unleashing a fountain of blood and guts.

The bank manager had been hiding under his desk the whole time, trembling in terror. Roman walked over to him and bashed his head in with the tip of his blade. As he gingerly wiped off pieces of the man's brain from the computer screen, Roman got to work hacking into the security system. "If I just press... _this_ button...ohh, fun…" he muttered, chuckling at the surprising amateurity of this "high-security" facility's defenses. "And with that….we should be in business!" He triumphantly pressed the Enter key, waiting for the virus he'd installed to override the vault security.

The gunfire coming from below was getting louder. Roman could hear the obnoxious shouts of police officers as they ran into the building. _How annoying._ He supposed it was foolish of him to expect that his men would be able to handle even such a simple task on their own, but he had always hoped that one day they would not disappointment. But Roman wasn't one to complain about the hand he'd been dealt, so he left the virus to upload and ran out of the room, sword in hand and a machine gun in the other.

"Hrahh!" Deciding that going down the stairs was too mundane and ordinary for him, Roman leapt off the railing, rising above the swarm of the cops that had gathered below. He fired wildly into the crowd, watching in satisfaction as they scattered in terror, with the occasional cop getting his head blown into pieces. As he hit the floor, he rolled right into the middle of the swarm, and quickly swung his katana with several brisk strokes, cutting up cops into bloody chunks and spilling out their guts. Within seconds he had slaughtered most of them, and finished off the last few with some blind fire from his machine gun.

Roman sighed as he wiped off some of the blood he'd gotten on his lovely white uniform. He hadn't meant to dirty himself like this - at this rate, he'd need to buy a new suit after this whole ordeal was over. _Well, once we're done here I'll actually be able to afford one again,_ he thought comfortingly.

"Boss!" One of his own thugs ran up to him, blood dripping from his face. "The cops are closin' in from all sides! There's way too many of 'em! And...and...the White Fang are helping 'em, too!"

Roman sighed. Once he was back in power, he would make sure those high-strung cunts in the navy suits knew their place. No longer would they have the backing of some low-life wannabe criminals filling their pockets and keeping them safe. Under his rule, the people of Vale would learn to fear again. "Hold them off," he ordered the thug. "At least until the security override is complete. Once w-"

Gunfire rang out and the thug's body was torn into bloody pieces right in front of him, before collapsing into a puddle of his own bullet-ridden organs. Roman abruptly turned his head to the left, where several officers carrying sniper rifles had materialized on the balcony. To his right, even more cops had emerged. _Shit._ He quickly grabbed the assault rifle that his thug had been carrying, aiming them in opposite directions and pulling the triggers simultaneously, sweeping the area with bullets. After ten solid seconds of not having his head blown off, Roman glanced from side to side and saw that all the snipers were dead.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Roman made his way back up the stairs, toward the computer room. Several more White Fang thugs were waiting for them, but he shot them all down with ease. They were all quite pathetic, really- it was almost as if their only purpose was to give him something to do while waiting for the security override to be activated. Once he reached his destination, he saw that the computer screen read "OVERRIDE ACKNOWLEDGED. PRESS TO ACCESS FUNCTIONS". _Excellent._ Roman swiftly accessed the function to open the bank vault, and instantly heard the loud, metallic noise of the doors opening nearby.

He walked with a triumphant gait toward the vault, taking a shotgun from a thug's body to replace his now-depleted weapon. The doors to the vault were open, and he walked in while holding his walkie-talkie to his ear. "We're in business, boys!" he yelled. "Get over to the vault and we'll take as much as we can hold - and then some!"

As if on cue, the next wave of SWAT officers came crashing through the windows, in much larger droves than before. Roman rolled to avoid the sudden wave of bullets before returning fire. He dispatched several of them as his surviving men came running to the rescue, and as they began to hold off the officers' assault, Roman made his way into the vault.

"Well, now...let's see what we've got here, shall we?" He muttered, ignoring the sounds of gunfire behind him. Using the keys he'd retrieved earlier, he began opening the cases one by one, admiring the fat stacks of dollar bills that lay within. _Magnificent._ With this much money, the Syndicate would never want for anything ever again. He began shoving wads of the cash into bags.

Suddenly, a loud burst of static came through on his walkie-talkie. Pausing his task, Roman put the device to head. "Hello, who is this?" he asked in a cheerful voice.

"Roman Torchwick...I should have known you would pull some shit like this." The raspy, furious voice of Adam Taurus, leader of the White Fang, resonated through the walkie-talkie. "I gave you and your goons support when you were at your lowest, and you still chose to stab us in the back. Now, my men and I will show you why that was a very, _very_ shitty idea."

Roman laughed. "You make yourself sound so generous. Well, I was worried that this operation would be dreadfully boring, but that's done now that you're here. When I see you, I'll be sure to give you my resignation letter." He turned off the walkie-talkie, and left the vault, casually shooting down officers and masked men as he walked to the staircase.

Making his way to the roof of the bank, Roman found Adam waiting for him, at least ten other masked White Fang members by his side, all of them with their guns pointed squarely at his head. The helicopter that they had arrived in was perched harmlessly behind them. "So you actually came," Adam said, stepping forward while casually dusting off his clean black suit. "I didn't think even you'd be this stupid."

"Oh, I'm the stupid one?" Roman sneered, unflinching in the sights of over ten machine guns. "My men and I just took over your bank in under a day. In fact, that means you're the one treading on _my_ territory now! But out of gratitude for letting me fuck you in the ass so easily, I'll give you one chance to leave with your lives."

Adam stared at him in disbelief. "...Unbelievable. You really are hopeless, aren't you?" He turned behind him and motioned to his men. "Kill him. I want to savour this moment."

"Funny," Roman chuckled. "I was going to tell you the same thing. Oh well, I guess you've squandered your once chance, Adam boy. It was fun working under you...actually, that's not true. It was like a living fucking hell. Well, either way, this is goodbye!" He signaled with his hand.

On the nearby buildings, the dozen or so snipers that had been waiting for their leader's signal took their cue. They aimed their rifles at Adam and his men, and fired all at once. Roman watched in satisfaction as his enemies were riddled with bullets, almost appearing to be dancing wildly on the spot as spurts of blood flew from their bodies. Finally, they collapsed in a bloody heap, falling like ragdolls. _Just as planned._ The whole heist had been a front for Roman to attract Adam's attention and lure him in.

With his greatest rival for power now dead, Roman Torchwick and his men were finally back in the big leagues. Using the computer system he'd hacked into, Roman was able obtain valuable data on almost every major political figure in the city, ensuring a bountiful source of blackmail money in the future. With all the money they'd secured, it would only be a matter of time before they bought out the White Fang's buildings and headquarters. The Fang was going to know firsthand what kind of hell he'd been through for the past few years, and the thought of it made Roman smile like a young boy watching a superhero movie. And then there was the free helicopter, which was also a plus.

They dragged the bodies of the rest of the thugs onto the roof to join their leader. Roman's goons gathered around the pile as he doused them with a healthy dose of gasoline, before lighting another cigar and taking a generous smoke. "Time to light 'em up," he chuckled.

Suddenly, he felt a chill run through his body. As Roman blinked, he saw that the day had turned to a stormy night, and lightning was brewing in the distance, getting closer and closer. All around him, his men had turned into rotting skeletons, staring at him with dead, empty eyes. His mind swirling in confusion, Roman looked down at the body pile. To his horror, he saw Adam calmly stand up, still riddled with bullet holes, brushing himself off. The White Fang leader removed his mask, stained with his own blood, and replaced it with the black mask of a crow.

"So you did it. Congratulations," the crow said in a mocking tone. "Well, now what're you gonna do with your newfound empire, huh?"

 _Who the fuck are you?_ "Who cares?" Roman sneered. "I rule this city now. Under me, everyone in Vale's going to know what it's like to live in fear - and I can always just rile up a little fight against the police if I get bored."

The crow laughed, his raspy chuckles sending more chills down Roman's body. "Talk about pathetic. You haven't accomplished anything, and you never will. One day, someone else is gonna come along and take you down, and then you'll have nothing. That's how it always goes - an endless cycle...:"

"That's-" Roman blinked, and the world was back to normal. Adam lay dead at his feet, and his own men were staring at him expectantly. "Sir? Are you going to do it?" one of them asked.

"...Ah. Right," he muttered, realizing that the cigar in his hand had lost its light. How long had he been standing there? Shaking his head, trying to dismiss what had just happened as a delayed hallucination, he lit another cigar and threw it onto the pile of bodies, setting them ablaze.

His men burst into boisterous cheers. Some of them pulled down their pants on the spot, urinating into the fire, while others fired their guns into the air in celebration. Roman grinned, his encounter with the crow already forgotten. Walking over to the edge of the roof, he looked downward and observed the scenery, admiring the city that was now all his...

* * *

 _11th Scene: Melancholy_

Yang sighed deeply. _This is so fucking boring,_ she thought glumly.

It was about an hour past midnight, and soon it would be time for her to close down the bar til morning. Just like she had done yesterday, and the day before, and the day before at. An endless, repeating circle in this mundane life of hers. Tomorrow probably wouldn't be any different, either.

She missed the old days - the glorious days when all there was to life were parties and concerts. Dancing to one's heart's content, drinking, getting high, having sex in public with no shame...all the wonderful things that those rotten, boring adults said were indecent and undesirable. To someone living that life, the dreary misery of a nine-to-five job, paying taxes and working their ass off just to not to get evicted every month seemed an eternity away.

Well, now it had come. And Yang Xiao Long, prom queen and most sought after girl in all of Beacon Academy, had now joined the unending ranks of adults treading through their boring, mundane lives, burying their dreams and surrendering themselves to the never-ending, ever-churning system of society. She supposed she should at least be thankful that she was a bartender, and not something even worse, even more _ordinary_ like a cashier or a waitress.

Occasionally, she'd even feel the momentary, repulsive tinge of regret that she hadn't been more dutiful in her studies back in high school. That maybe if she hadn't wasted half of her life getting hammered or cramming various paraphernalia up her cunt, maybe she'd have gotten good enough grades to go to a decent college. She'd always wanted to be a rock star, or maybe even an actress. Of course, the feeling only lasted for a moment, and then all that was left was the boredom and the misery, once again.

Yang gave another heavy sigh, and poured herself a glass of strawberry vodka. She put a cute little umbrella in the drink, and downed it in a single indulgent gulp. Hopefully, if she got drunk enough, she could forget about her current life and imagine she was still in the nightclub, dancing with her best friends, and being the life of the party...sadly, it was useless. She could down enough alcohol to make her liver burst and turn her blood to wine, but there was no escape from her cold, boring reality.

She sat down on her ass and let out an embarrassingly loud belch. Thankfully, there weren't many customers in the bar during closing hours, so there was no one around to mock her. The only people in the building were three young women, around the same age as Yang, playing poker at a table in the corner of the bar.

"I got a royal flush!" The youngest of the girls, with dark hair and red highlights, triumphantly put down her set of cards. Her name was Ruby Rose, and she was Yang's younger half-sister. While Yang was sometimes annoyed her naivety, she loved her more than she could say. Her sister showing up to her bar every day just to keep her company was the source of her only smile in all this monotony. Even so, she lacked some of the fire, the daring enthusiasm to live that defined Yang's life, and what she valued more than anything in the world.

The white-haired girl sitting adjacent to Ruby snorted. "You idiot. That's not a royal flush." She pointed at the cards Ruby had put down - two kings, a jack of spades, and a queen of hearts. "You need a ten, ace, king, jack and queen, _and_ they all need to be the same suit. Honestly! Have you never even played this game?" This girl was Weiss Schnee, some obnoxious rich bitch who had run away from home to find some excitement in her life. Yang didn't particularly care for her, but she and Ruby seemed to get along - when they weren't at each other's throats, that was.

"Y-yeah, I have!" Ruby said defensively. "Me and Yang play this all the time! She says I'm really good, and I've even beaten her a couple times!"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Oh right, your sister. Well, either she's just really that bad, or she just lets you win to make you feel better."

"Aww...that's not true, is it, Sis?" Ruby glanced over at Yang with those round puppy-dog eyes of hers. Yang sighed, averted her sister's gaze. It was hard to admit, but Weiss had hit the nail right on the head. Truth was, no matter how many times the two sisters played, Ruby could never seem to remember which hands were which. Sometimes, Yang would just play badly so her sister could at least win once or twice.

"...Well, it looks like I win," said Blake Belladonna, the quiet, raven-haired girl sitting beside Ruby, who put down a staggering five-of-a-kind hand; four tens and a joker. "Good game, everyone." Yang found Blake fascinating; by all means she should find her completely boring to be around, but her history as a former criminal who lived on the streets and survived by hanging out with the White Fang made the girl someone Yang wanted to learn more about. At the very least, it seemed her life had been way more interesting than her own.

Weiss stared at the cards in disbelief. "There's no way you can be that lucky," she said venomously, glaring at Blake. "Wait a minute - you were the one shuffling the deck, weren't you? I bet you cheated to give yourself better cards! You did, didn't you?!"

"...You have to do whatever you can do win, rich girl," Blake shrugged. "Out there in the real world, it's win or die."

"So you admit it!"

"I didn't admit anything. I'm just telling you the way things are. Anyway, you've lost, so how about you pay up? I'm sure you can afford to spare some of your fortune."

Weiss looked ready to murder someone, but eventually she reluctantly paid up. Ruby did the same, albeit much more cheerfully. With their game over, the girls began to converse about some mundane topics like work, music and whatever hot new TV show was airing. "So how's your acting gig coming along, Ruby?" Blake asked.

"Ugh...they told me they'd need to wait a little longer before the next shoot," Ruby sighed. "I think they might lay me off at this point...apparently the new season of that sci-fi comedy just started, and that's the thing everyone's talking about now. People just forgot all about me, I guess."

"I'm sure they'll come back to you eventually," Weiss replied. "People are fickle like that - all they care about is what's popular at the time."

Yang yawned, watching their conversation. Her head began to spin as the alcohol finally started to get to her mind, and she was getting sleepy. _Might as well close up now and go home,_ she thought glumly. More than likely, she'd throw up in the bathtub from all the vodka, take a shot of heroin, and then stay up until dawn watching porn. Groggily, she tried to stand up.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a bell ringing, as the front door of the door opened. _Huh. A customer at this time of night? That's pretty unusual._ She looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise as a familiar face strode into her view.

"Oh, hey Mercury," she said. "Haven't seen you in a while...what're you doing here?"

Standing in the doorframe, Mercury Black stretched out his lean arms, letting out a heavy yawn as he walked into the bar, glancing around in approval. "Nothing much - just wanted to stop by for a drink after work," he muttered. He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward, staring Yang in the eye with a charming smile. "Or were you hoping that I was here for you, hmm?"

"Don't be an idiot" Yang said, grinning back. "I said I wasn't gonna give a cheating jackass like you another chance, remember? Well, if you're here for a drink, order up before I kick your sorry ass out."

Mercury laughed. "Well then...I guess I'm in the mood for an old-fashioned margarita. Gotta have something nice and simple after a long day, y'know?" Yang nodded in agreement, feeling a tinge of envy as she imagined what crazy, adventurous life her old friend must be having for him to talk like this. She quickly mixed the drink and slid it to him over the counter, before pouring a second one for herself.

"Heh. Cheers." Mercury raised his glass to Yang's with a sharp _clink._ Both of them downed the cold beverage, savouring the sweet, tangy taste of the drink. Before she knew it, the two of them were talking freely with each other, casually reminiscing about the past, and former acquaintances. Some of them had gone off the deep end and ended up as druggies or prostitutes, some were pregnant, and others were dead. Yang almost felt lucky by comparison. As they talked, Ruby, Weiss and Blake now had their handhelds out and were playing _Pokemon_ with each other.

"So...how's life treating you, Yang?" Mercury asked, placing his glass down on the table.

Yang sighed. "Ugh. Boring as all hell. I miss the days when we all actually got together and had fun, Merc. But now, most of those guys are gone, or fucked up beyond saving, and I'm stuck in this hellhole for the rest of my life. As far as I care, life ends after high school. I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do with myself now?" She realized she was venting like a child, and took a deep breath to calm herself. "Honestly, you're the only one out of us who still has their life together. You wouldn't happen to have some secret to that, would you?"

"...Hm." Mercury appeared to be lost in thought, idly tapping his finger on the counter. "Y'know, maybe I do. Hey, doesn't it seem like the crime rate in Vale's been especially bad lately? Not to mention the Syndicate taking over most of the city and basically declaring war on the whole city. Vale's always been a shithole, sure, but now it's worse than ever."

"Yeah, that's true." Yang agreed, feeling confused by the apparent change in subject. "What's that have to do with us?"

Mercury smiled. "Let's just say I got a call. I don't know if there were any others who got it, and I don't know why it ended up being me. Could be that people out there just really like me. But I _do_ know that whoever was on the other end of the phone had the offer of a lifetime."

"...I'm listening."

"We're not the only ones who hate the way things are, y'know? Apparently someone, somewhere out there wants us to clean this city of the scum that's taken control. They always send some cryptic voicemail on your phone, like 'come to so-and-so place for a job interview' or something. But when you get there, it's a criminal hotspot, ripe and ready for the taking. And the rest should go without saying."

Yang blinked, not believing what her old flame was saying. "So what? You're saying your job is...an assassin?"

"Call it that if you want." Mercury was getting up now. "It's a bunch of cliche heist movie bullshit - put on a cool mask, walk in all guns blazing and leave no alone - but damn if it isn't fun. Makes me feel like a kid again - doing whatever the hell I want. Who knows? It seems like your idea of a good time, so maybe the call will come to you someday." Paying for his drink, the young man turned and walked to the door. "See you next time, Blondie," he said, waving goodbye from behind.

The bell rang as the door slammed shut. Yang sat there quietly, taking in everything Mercury had told her. _He's...killing people for a living,_ she thought, stunned. As reckless and carefree as she was, Yang knew that murder was off-bounds. It was a repulsive, hateful act reserved only for the lowest scum of society. _I'd never kill anyone...right?_

But surely this was different from murder. The people Mercury had mentioned were criminals - they were the scum of society themselves. No one would miss them if some of them died off...or even all of them. Maybe he was right - this could be something she could really get behind.

She went over to the cabinets behind her. Some of them were filled with old junk that she would've thrown out years ago had it not been for sentimental value. From the top drawer, she retrieved a large, moth-eaten box containing a trove of animal masks. Yang and her friends had worn these for a play back at school.

"Hey sis! You coming?" Ruby called to her. She, Weiss and Blake had packed up their games and were standing by the front door, glancing expectantly at Yang. "It's really getting late, and you need your beauty sleep!"

"Hold on a moment." Carrying the box of masks, Yang walked over to her friends, bearing the biggest smile she'd had in a long time. "I've got a great idea for a hangout, guys. Just hear me out…"

* * *

 _12th Scene: Maelstrom_

"...I see. Well, if there's nothing else you can tell us, I guess you can leave," the officer said, furiously scribbling on his notepad.

Tyrian smiled at him. "Well, thank you very much," he said in a soft, reassuring voice. He glanced over at the body lying motionlessly on the parking ground a few feet away. The poor man's face had been cleanly skinned off, and his bloodied arms and legs lay arranged in two cross formations several feet away. His killer had torn his chest open before violently removing his heart. The crime scene was being sealed off with yellow tape as cops ushered terrified civilians away from the gruesome sight.

The cop sighed, waving Tyrian away. "Honestly, I doubt we'll ever catch the guy at this rate," he muttered. "I swear that Commissioner Ironwood's gone fucking insane...all he does is lock himself up in his room all day. How're we gonna get anything done, huh?" His attention to Tyrian had faded completely, who began walking away briskly.

Securing himself in his own car, Tyrian exhaled deeply and retrieved the heart of his victim from his pocket, admiring the smooth red veins of the muscle. _Another masterpiece to the collection,_ he thought triumphantly as he drove away from the crime scene. As he turned onto the highway, he felt the vibration of his phone. "Well, well, what perfect timing," he chuckled, taking one hand off the wheel to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hello!" came the response. "This is Flynt from Team FNKI! We've got a rockin' concert happening at 39 Vytal Avenue tonight - it's gonna be the explosive celebration you don't wanna miss! We need an extra receptionist for the event - someone who'll take good care of the audience! Hope to see you there!" _Beep._ The phone shut off.

Tyrian chuckled. "Oh, this day keeps getting better and better," he said to himself. "To think I'd get not one, but two chances to bring more art into the world today." He pressed hard on the gas as his car sped in the direction of the Amity Coliseum. It was all the way on the other end of the city - by the time he reached the Vytal district, it was nighttime.

As he drove, his eyes focused on the road, he caught something approaching him from somewhere up ahead. In the dark, it was difficult to make out what it was from a distance. For a moment, fear filled his heart. _The police?_ But no, it was just a regular car. A pristine white Lamborghini, running on speeds vastly exceeding the limit, careening right toward him. Cursing, Tyrian tried to move his car out of the way, but was unable to avoid an impact. The other car struck him in the side, but Tyrian was able to keep his wheels on the road and continue forward. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The Lamborghini wasn't as lucky. The fancy car lost its balance completely, flipping over on its side as it flew into the air, before crashing in a fiery heap by the roadside. As Tyrian drove away, he heard the sound of the vehicle exploding behind him. _How karmic,_ he thought, sneering. More than likely they were some drunk teenagers on a joyride. He pushed his near-death experience out of his mind, and continued his journey.

After what felt like an eternity, he arrived at his destination. "Oh my. This is a surprise," he gasped as he got out, glancing at the enormous structure that lay ahead of him. This was no ordinary building - it was a nuclear power plant. Several men with guns were patrolling the entrance, so Tyrian took cover in the bushes, sneaking toward them.

Once he got close to one of the guards, he ran out from cover, wrapping his hands around the man's neck and crushing his windpipe, sending his throat muscles flying up into his mouth. Tyrian threw his body to the ground and took his pistol, before quickly turning and shooting down the rest of the men.

 _Such a strange location for something like this,_ Tyrian thought. Well, it didn't matter anyway. The only thing that was relevant was the killing - the beautiful destruction. He made his way into the building, where a group of thugs wearing the familiar black suits waited for him. Tyrian shot two of them dead, spilling their brains onto the floor, and threw the gun at another, stunning him and giving Tyrian the chance to leap onto him, crushing his face into bloody paste with his fist. He then leapt to avoid the last guard's gunfire while picking his gun back up and finishing him off with a headshot.

Not satisfied with so little bloodshed, Tyrian hastily made his way into the power plant. The place was enormous, and there were black-clad thugs everywhere. It seemed like there wasn't a single tile he could stand on without instantly being spotted and gunned down by one of them. Not that that stopped him, of course. He ran toward a nearby generator, shooting down several thugs as he ran past them, feeling their blood splatter onto his clothing. The gunshots attracted some of their comrades, and Tyrian could hear them approaching as he took cover behind the generator. He picked up a machine gun and effortlessly mowed down the thugs as they ran blindly toward him, spraying their limbs all over the floor. One of them dropped a sniper rifle as they fell, and the weapon gently slid across the floor, landing at Tyrian's feet.

 _Now isn't that convenient._ Tyrian eagerly picked up the weapon, and looked out from his cover to see a sniper perched on the railing above him. With a single clean shot, he blew a large hole in the man's chest, and his body fell limply to the floor below. Several other snipers nearby met the same fate, and soon all that was left of them was a splatter of blood or a stray intestine decorating the railing.

Once the coast was clear, Tyrian walked out from behind the generator, retrieving his machine gun and entering the next room. At first, he thought it was empty, but then he heard muffled voices from behind several doors. It seemed like there were people occupying the various engine rooms scattered around. Tyrian entered the one closest to him, tossing his gun into the chest of one of the two thugs standing in the room. He snatched the man's knife out of his hand and drove the blade into his right eye, piercing through his skull. The man's friend backed into the wall, his mouth opened in silent terror. Tyrian leapt at him and stabbed him six times in the chest, blood pumping out of his body with each thrust. As he collapsed to the floor, Tyrian left the room and saw that he hadn't attracted any attention.

Now, Tyrian was getting impatient. He fired wantonly into the air with his machine gun, triggering loud screams from within the nearby rooms. He saw the doors open one by one, as panicked gunmen ran out to see the source of the gunfire. Laughing, Tyrian swung his gun from side to side, a hail of bullets flying everywhere and killing everyone in sight. Even once all the thugs were dead, he continued to fire madly, until his machine gun had run out of ammo. The walls were charred black with bullet holes and stained red with blood, and corpses lay all across the floor.

With all his enemies eliminated, Tyrian made his way to the center of the power plant, where the main nuclear generator stood, whirring ominously and giving off an eerie blue light. Two men were standing above a large crate, arguing about where to place it. They didn't notice Tyrian approach until he shot them both dead. He placed his hands on the now blood-stained crate, staring at it in curiosity as he opened it.

The crate was filled to the brim with bright red powder, and it felt warm to his touch. _Fire Dust,_ Tyrian realized in awe. Judging from the warmth, and the fact that the powder seemed to tingle in his hands, this was an incomplete version of the drug. _Well, imperfections are often a source of beauty themselves._ Without hesitation, he shoveled a handful of the Dust into his mouth.

The burning sensation filled his body immediately, and he gasped from the sudden rush of adrenaline. In a frenzy, he found himself devouring more and more of the substance, drooling as he felt the sharp sting of the Dust melting on his tongue. The room turned a blood-red hue, and he saw the bright lights flashing all around him. Tyrian threw his head back and laughed. _Oh, how beautiful...this is magnificent!_ His heart began racing, and he felt like he was on fire.

Tyrian took another mouthful, and then another. The burning sensation continued, getting more and more intense. Finally, he couldn't take the sensations anymore, and collapsed against the surface of the generator. As he touched it, he could make out the fiery glow of his fingers searing into the machinery, and the putrid smell of radiation wafted out from the metal. The plant was overloading, and as he pressed the rest of his body against it, he heard the alarm sirens go off somewhere in the distance.

 _Oh, of course,_ he thought. _How silly of me._ As it turned out, he _was_ on fire. His entire body had become a charred, singed pile of burnt flesh, wreathed in undying flames that flew in every direction. Not just himself, but the entire room was bathed in fire, and soon it would spread to the entire power plant. _Such uninhibited beauty!_ Tyrian thought, his face breaking out into a wide smile. A bright white flash emanated from somewhere in his vision - was it in front of him? From within him? He couldn't tell. All he could feel was the wondrous, pure energy swirling inside him, consuming him, struggling to break free of its host. _The light...the light-!_

* * *

 **END OF ACT FOUR**


	5. Act Five: Revelation

**ACT FIVE: REVELATION**

 _13th Scene: Emancipation_

Pain.

That was Ruby's first sensation - a dull rush of pain throbbing in her head as she regained consciousness. _Where am I?_ She wondered. She opened her eyes, but all she saw was a gray blur, spinning round and round without end. The sight just made it hurt even more, and she quickly squeezed her eyes shut once more.

After a few minutes of agony, Ruby felt her senses returning. She was lying flat on her back, on a soft surface. Something nice and warm was covering up up to the shoulders, and as she moved her fingers with an enormous effort, Ruby could feel its soft fabric, filling her body with a sense of comfort. She began to become aware of her breathing, as she took several greedy gulps of the air around her.

 _I'm Ruby._ That thought came to her, and though she had no proof, she knew it was true. That was her name. _It's a very pretty name,_ she thought. _I'm glad my parents named me that._ But something else was nagging at her mind. Some other names, ones she didn't immediately recognize.

 _Weiss. Blake. Yang._ Pain shot through her head as those three names rose to the surface of her mind. Those names belonged to people she knew. She wasn't quite sure how she knew them, but they must be very important to her. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been the first names she remembered after her own. And it wouldn't have caused her such pain just to recall their names.

Once the headaches had subsided, Ruby tried opening her eyes again. Wherever she was, it was extremely bright - or perhaps she was accustomed to being in the darkness for so long. There was a flourescent light on the ceiling, she was lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed. And her hands were wrapped in thick white bandages.

Eventually, Ruby became lucid enough to ask herself the most crucial questions. _Why can't I remember anything? How did I end up here?_ She shut her eyes tightly, trying to bring back her memories, not knowing if she even had any. Finally, something came back to her.

A feeling of pure bliss. The comfortable sensation of leaning on someone else's shoulder, bathing in their sweet scent. And then all of a sudden, a screeching noise, accompanied by the sound of someone screaming. She saw red, and felt a terrible pain all over her body. She was burning, and so was the entire world around her. And then...nothing.

Ruby felt her head spinning as the memories came rushing back. But it was still only one piece of the picture; she knew she was missing something else. For some reason, she felt tears welling up inside her eyelids. _Why...why am I crying?_ She just couldn't understand.

"...need her to solve the case." Her senses still returning, Ruby's ears began to perceive an unfamiliar voice. "If she dies, we might never find the culprit." Dazed, she turned her head slightly, glancing at the side of her bed. A man in a blue uniform and a woman wearing a nurse's outfit were conversing. Ruby struggled to make out the rest of what they were saying.

"If she dies, we may never catch the culprit," the police officer insisted. "She's a prime suspect in the recent vigilante killings, and we need her testimony as soon as possible."

"But she's in no shape to answer questions," the nurse protested. "We're doing the best we can, but whether she'll survive, let alone if she'll ever wake up, is still uncertain."

"I don't want your 'best'. A toddler could do your 'best' while getting beat on the ass by its parents and being dropped headfirst onto the floor!" The officer's voice was getting louder, and it seemed he was quickly losing his patience. "You couldn't save the other three girls in the car, so this one's all we've got!"

The nurse sighed. "...Understood. We'll...try harder." With that, the two of them exited the hospital room, leaving Ruby alone.

 _What was that?_ Ruby thought. _Those two people...they were talking about me!_ She wasn't quite sure what they meant when they said they 'needed' her, though. Apparently she was a suspect in some case? _I don't know what I'd be suspected for. I don't think I'd ever do something bad...I'm a good girl._

 _Good. Good._ More memories were returning, even fuzzier than before. Ruby was starting to remember who she was. She remembered her desire to do things for good. For justice. And somehow, at some point in time, she had found a way to do so. A way to not only escape from her boring, unfulfilling life, but to do as much good as possible with what little she had.

And she hadn't been alone. _Weiss. Blake. Yang._ Of course, that's who they were. The three of them had been her friends. Blake, with her aura of cool mystery. Yang, her own sister, who was always so energetic and caring. And Weiss, beautiful and elegant, with her long white hair tied up in a cute ponytail. Together, they had been more than just four young women lost in a hopeless society. They were warriors - heroes, even.

But if so, where were they now? Weren't heroes supposed to always stick together? To never give up until the end? _You couldn't save the other three girls in the car._ That was what the officer had said. Slowly, the realization began to set into Ruby's body. "No…" she heard herself whimper. "It can't be…" But of course. There really was no other explanation for what had happened.

Her friends had been captured. They were being held hostage by the enemy, and it was all up to Ruby to save them. She was the only one them - the responsibility fell entirely on her. _They've done everything for me up until now,_ Ruby thought, determination welling up inside her body. _Now I need to return the favour - I have to save them all!_

Grunting, Ruby struggled to pull herself out of the bed. With an effort, she pulled the IV tubing out of her arm, before clumsily falling off the mattress and tumbling onto the carpet headfirst. "Ah," she squeaked, a jolt of pain rushing through her as she lay there. Whatever the enemy had done to her, they had clearly made it so that she couldn't move a muscle without feeling intense pain. "I'm not...gonna go down that easy," she groaned, struggling to get up. The most she could manage was crawling on her hands, moving with a Herculean effort toward the door.

"Hrahh...ahhh." Panting, she raised her hand and grabbed onto the doorknob. As she finally got to her feet, feeling as though a thousand needles were digging into her legs, Ruby wrenched the door open and staggered out into the hallway. Her head began to spin again as she took in her new surroundings. She was in a thin corridor, with a pair of clean white walls boxing her in. On the walls were dozens of identical doors, much like the one she had just emerged out of. As Ruby stared ahead of her, she could see the hall shift left and right, causing her to stumble.

 _Keep going._ Panting, Ruby kept moving. Every few steps, the pain rushed through her body again, and she collapsed into one of the walls, holding onto it for support, before dragging herself forward. Her mind was being filled with more memories - the sounds of gunfire, the loud whirring of a weapon in her hands as it carved through flesh. She remembered the feeling of blood flying all over her, soaking her clothes and stinging her skin. Ruby felt a strong rush of nausea as the memories returned, and she lost balance, falling on her side onto the floor.

Gasping for breath through the agony, Ruby tilted her head to the side. Just out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bathroom, with a janitor cleaning the floor right next to it. Standing back up, she waited for him to move out of view, before stumbling to the bathroom and pushing the door open, falling inside.

"U-ughhh…" she groaned, pushing her head over the sink and vomiting into it. For a few seconds, she stood there, watching her sludgy blood and innards sink into the drain. Looking up at the mirror, she saw what her face had become. It was mostly wreathed in bandages, but what little skin she could see was horribly scarred, her cheeks were black as burnt charcoal, and her hair had been completely singed off. _Why…? How could this happen?_ Ruby wanted to cry.

She heard the sound of someone approaching, and quickly hid behind the door as a security guard walked into the bathroom, not noticing her. As silently as she could, and ignoring the fierce pounding in her head, Ruby snuck out of the room and continued walking down the hallway.

 _Where could they be?_ She glanced from side to side, occasionally opening a door to see if anyone was inside. Sometimes, she hid her small frame behind a desk or a potted plant, or inside a garbage can, to avoid approaching nurses or guards. But no matter how hard she looked, there was so sign of her friends. Could it be that they had been taken to another location?

 _That must be it,_ Ruby thought. After all, her friends were no ordinary prisoners. They were grand heroes of justice, and if their enemies were trying to lock them up, they'd need more than just regular prison cells. Only the largest of penthouse suites would be enough to hold the three of them. Which meant Ruby would only be wasting her time searching around here.

As she continued to stumble around the area, Ruby pressed herself against a door, struggling as another wave of pain struck her. Suddenly, she saw something out of the corner of her eyes. She glanced to the side, fearful that one of the guards had spotted her. Her eyes widened as she saw the white-haired girl standing behind the door, staring at her through the window. _It's her,_ she realized immediately. Smiling at her, Weiss waved and walked out of her view.

"No," Ruby said weakly. "Wait…" Feeling a rush of strength, she opened the door, where a long staircase lay ahead. At the top of a flight of stairs, Weiss stood, watching her without a word. Before Ruby could open her mouth to call out to her, she turned and ran up the stairs.

"Wait! Wait for me!" she screamed, bolting after the other girl, ignoring the pain in her legs as she ran up two steps at a time, falling over onto her stomach several times. As she ascended the staircase, more memories returned to her.

She remembered going out for ice cream with Yang - her sister. Ruby always got her favourite flavour, chocolate chip, while Yang preferred strawberry.

She remembered offering a cookie to Blake, an emaciated, homeless girl suffering from withdrawal, letting her stay over for the night.

She remembered playing _Halo_ with Weiss for the first time. The other girl had never played the game before, and Ruby had spent about two hours teaching her the mechanics. Afterwards, however, Weiss had beaten her in every match.

Those memories all came back at once, filling Ruby with warmth. She felt nostalgic...happy, even. She pressed onward, finally reaching the top of the stairs. Looking around, she could find no trace of Weiss, or Blake and Yang for that matter. _Where did you go?_ She wanted to scream. _Why won't you let me save you?_ Ruby couldn't understand it. She reached out to the door in front of her, wrenching it open and stepping onto the roof of the building.

Instantly, a bright light shone into her eyes, and she squeezed her pupils shut to block out the pain. Opening her mouth, she took a gasp of fresh, delicious air that almost sent her into a high. Ruby opened her eyes to see the sky above her. It was the middle of the night, and the sky was filled with beautiful stars. As she looked up at the bright moon, she found it reminded her of Weiss.

Staring straight ahead of her, The moon shone its white light upon her, as if beckoning to the girl. _Ah,_ Ruby thought, the realization finally setting in. _Of course. I should've known all along...So that's where you guys are._

As if in a trance, Ruby walked forward. Glancing directly into the light, another vision came to her. The bar that her sister ran. A table covered in bottles of vodka and beer. Her three friends in their seats, cards in hand. Their heads turned to her as her approached, smiling as they all reached out to her at once. In response, Ruby held out her hand. Her foot reached the edge of the roof, her toes dangling in the open air.

She heard shouting coming from somewhere behind her. It seemed the guards, or perhaps a nurse, had found her. She didn't care though - they were too late. "Hang on guys," she whispered. "I'm coming to get you."

Ruby was smiling. She felt her feet leaving the ground...

* * *

 _14th Scene: Resignation_

Jaune was awakened by the sound of thunder. He gasped for air, feeling his heart race as sweat cascaded down his face and neck, soaking into his striped pajamas. He glanced at his window, hearing the heavy _pitter-patter_ of the rain pounding against his house. He winced as lightning struck, filling his vision with white light. "Dammit," he muttered, running his hand through his blond hair. "Sounds like a fucking hurricane out there."

Yawning, he kicked off his blankets and leapt out of bed, before grabbing a fresh change of clothes from his cabinet. Once he was done dressing himself, he flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. "Come on," he grumbled, turning it on and off several times, but to no avail. It was broken. _Just my damn luck._

Through the thundering sounds of rain crashing against the windows, Jaune heard the doorbell ringing below him. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered sleepily, walking out of his bedroom, rapidly blinking as his eyes gradually adjusted to the dark. It looked like his house was in the middle of a power outage, as the clock hanging on his wall wasn't working. It was stuck at a single time, and Jaune had no way of telling if it was midnight or dawn outside.

Jaune made his way down the stairs, a continuous _ding dong, ding dong_ ringing in his ears as the person at the door rang the bell over and over. Suddenly, he heard the sound of the telephone going off in the kitchen, even though the power was supposed to be out. _That's weird._ Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he went over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

 _They're coming for you,_ an unfamiliar voice whispered from the other end. _Just go along with them...it'll be much easier on you that way…_ The call cut off. "What the hell?" Jaune muttered. Shaking his head, he put the phone down, before returning to that impatient door.

Jaune opened the closet next to his front door, grabbing a yellow raincoat. After a moment's thought, he nodded and reached up to the top shelf, retrieving a small 9mm pistol.

"All right, all right, I said I was coming!" he yelled at the door as the bell rang yet again. Sighing, he put on his coat, placed the gun neatly in his pocket, and opened the door to reveal Ren and Nora standing in front of him in the rain, being soaked from head to toe as the rainwater poured down in gallons onto their heads. "Well, this is a surprise," he said. "What're you guys doing here?"

"...You're coming with us, sir," said Nora, her voice uncharacteristically devoid of any emotion. She stared at him with her face clenched in disgust. "We advise you to surrender quietly - it'll be easier for all of us if you don't struggle."

Jaune frowned. "Surrender? Me? What are you talking about, Nora? Is this some kind of joke?" He turned to Ren, whose normally stoic face was unnerved with terror as he stared at him, his eyes widened and shaking in fear. He gulped as he pointed a trembling finger to the police car that awaited in Jaune's driveway. "...P-please, get in the car right now," Ren muttered, averting his eyes. "We're taking you down to the station."

 _What's up with them?_ Jaune didn't understand at all. Shrugging his shoulders, he followed the two of them to the car, sitting in the backseat. Ren and Nora got in after him, wedging him in on either side. "Hey, it's getting tight in here," he complained, but neither of them responded. The car pulled out of Jaune's driveway and drove off down the road, as the pouring rain continued to pound against the windshield.

As they drove, Jaune leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the window. Outside the police car, he saw some people standing out in the rain, without a jacket or an umbrella to shield themselves from the downpour. Occasionally, he caught one of them staring in his direction. They would point at him, and turn to whisper to someone standing beside them. Some of them simply turned and ran.

After what felt like an eternity, the car pulled up to the police station. Jaune found himself being shoved forcefully out of the vehicle, where several cops were waiting for him. They grabbed Jaune by the shoulders and dragged him in the direction of the building, as he turned his gaze pleadingly toward Ren and Nora, who were still seated in the car, motionless. _What the hell is going on…?_

Inside the station, Jaune was brought before a burly, dark-skinned officer sitting at a desk, surveying the young man with a look of disdain on his bearded visage. Jaune did not recognize the man - it was Commissioner Ironwood who was supposed to be sitting at that desk. "Who are you?" he asked the man.

"I'm the commissioner," he growled.

Jaune scowled. "What…? No, you're not! The commissioner is James Ironwood! I've never seen you before in my life!"

"Mister Ironwood has been placed under arrest," replied the commissioner. "He's being accused of several charges related to terrorism, collaboration with vigilantes, and other violations of the justice system. And you, son, have been indicted as one of his accomplices."

"That's not true!" Jaune shook his head desperately. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about….sir!"

The commissioner was unmoved by this weak protest. "I've been told that you've provided our forces with excellent support on multiple occasions, and your superiors have praised your skills and improvement over your time here. Because of this, I've decided to give you the chance to surrender quietly. Hand over your gun and badge, and we can settle this quietly."

"No...please," Jaune insisted. "I'm innocent, I swear. You've got the wrong person!"

"Son, I don't want to hear your whining," the commissioner replied. "This is your last chance to come quietly."

Jaune looked him directly in the eye. "Sorry sir," he said quietly. "I'm not going to do that. If you want me, you'll have to take me by force."Quickly, he took his gun out of his pocket and shot the commissioner. The man's head burst like a balloon, his brains splattering onto the wall behind him.

The other officers in the room shouted, raising their guns as Jaune turned tail and ran for the exit. The sounds of gunfire rang in his ears, and bullets flew past him, barely missing his head as he pushed the door open. He ran back through the way he came in...but to his surprise, it didn't lead back outside. Instead, he found himself inside another area of the police station. Cops were patrolling everywhere, armed to the teeth with guns, batons and tasers.

 _What happened?_ Before Jaune could process what was happening, one of the cops had spotted him. Panicking, he emptied several bullets into the officer's chest, spilling his guts out onto the floor with a loud _Bang! Bang!_ that attracted the attention of several other cops, who all began firing in his direction. Jaune ran to the side, avoiding the bullets, taking cover inside one of the office rooms. There were several people inside, who looked up in shock as Jaune entered. He shot down all of them with relish, before running over to one of the corpses and taking the man's police baton.

The other cops were gathering around the room now. Jaune walked over to the door and kicked it open, knocking over two of them, before bring the baton down on the third man's head. The force behind his blow split the cop's head open, and it took a large amount of effort for him to remove the weapon from his caved-in skull. Before the other cops could get up from the floor, Jaune smashed their heads against the wall, crushing their brains.

He retrieved a machine gun from one of the bodies and began running down the hallway, looking for another exit. More cops appeared to confront him, some of them appearing seemingly from thin air. As he ran, Jaune pulled the trigger, firing aimlessly down the corridor and killing anyone in sight. Covering the walls and floor with blood, Jaune reached another door. In a trance, he pushed it open, and stepped in.

Jaune was now in another part of the station. There were even more cops here than before, and worse still, now some of them were wearing body armour. Many of the rooms in the area had multiple glass windows, and he'd be easily seen through them. But then again, the same applied to the cops. As one of them passed by, Jaune fired through the window, killing him, before rushing into the room. He shot down one more cop as he entered, and as the last man ran at him with a baton, he grabbed a bloodstained shard of glass off the floor and stabbed him in the neck. Blood gushed out of the cop's throat as he choked to death, falling to the floor in a crimson puddle.

There was gunfire coming from outside the room now. One of the armoured cops was coming near him, wielding two magnum pistols. Jaune ran out of the room, temporarily incapacitating him with a stream of gunfire. Several more men awaited him outside, and he gunned them all down. Jaune went over to the armoured officer, who still lay face-first on the floor, and crushed his head in with his foot, covering the floor with pieces of his splintered skull.

He was getting impatient now. How long was this going to go on for? He had to be getting to the end now. None of what was happening made any sense, and it was reaching the point where he just wanted it all to be over. Without even thinking straight, Jaune made his way down the hallway, killing every cop that he came across.

The longer it went on, the more questions began popping into his head. What was he even doing here? And what was with all the cops roaming around with their weapons drawn? It didn't make any sense for so many of them to be around the station as this time of day - especially the ones in armour. Shouldn't most of them be out at work or something? And for that matter, why were all of them so focused on taking him down? Jaune was very much accustomed to people hating him and wanting him dead, but he doubted he was so important that people would send a small army after him.

Actually, it was also really silly that the people he killed died in such unrealistically gruesome ways. Jaune had never been good at anatomy or biology in general, but he was quite sure that people didn't have their heads burst open into a gory explosion from being shot with a small pistol, and being stabbed with a knife didn't bisect them in half, spilling their severed organs all over the floor. In fact, the more he thought about it, the sillier it seemed. Why hadn't this ever bothered him before? Maybe it was because now, the thrill of the killing had completely worn off, and he was left with nothing else interesting to do, other than fruitlessly ponder the meaning behind whatever his current situation was.

Jaune came to yet another door and pushed it open. _This has to be the last one,_ he thought desperately. But to his dismay, he only found himself in yet another room. This time, he didn't have time to react as the cops spotted him. "There he is!" they yelled, pointing their guns at him.

"N-no, stop!" Jaune raised his hands in surrender, dropping his weapons. "Please...I'm done. I'm not fighting anymore! Just take me in, okay? I give up, I swear! Please…" He was begging, tears running down his face.

It didn't work. The policemen opened fire. Jaune felt the sharp pain of bullets piercing into his body…

"...Hahhh!" Gasping, he woke up in a cold sweat. His heart pounding out of his chest, Jaune looked around, seeing that he was lying on the couch in his living room. Several blankets covered him, and his head was lying on a soft, rabbit-shaped pillow. "Ah..hah... " he panted, his mind still shaking from the nightmare he'd just had.

 _Now that was a crazy dream,_ he thought, feeling a weak, pathetic laugh rise up from within him. "Hahaha…" Jaune chuckled. "I guess I have a better imagination that I thought." He glanced out the window. It was pitch black outside, and judging from the clock it was just past midnight.

Beside him, he felt someone else move from under the blankets. "You're still awake?" he asked. "...Yes," Pyrrha murmured, popping her head out from above the sheets. Yawning, she turned to Jaune with her eyes full of concern. "You sounded afraid for a second there. Are you alright?"

"Just a bad dream," replied Jaune, ruffling her scarlet-red hair. He looked at the television, where a new anchor was reporting a deadly car crash that had occurred a few hours earlier, that had left three young women dead and one in critical condition. "Whether her injuries are life-threatening has yet to be determined," the reporter said solemnly. "In other news-"

Suddenly, the TV turned to static. When the screen regained focus, the reporter's face had been covered with that of a black crow, staring at Jaune through the television with a surreal, almost mocking scowl. "You seem to be really cozy there," the crow said.

"...I guess," Jaune replied. Strangely, he didn't find this unusual occurrence to be frightening at all. In fact, he felt as calm as he'd ever been. It was like the relief of a recuperated criminal, having reached the end of his sentence, and had been released back into the world, free at last. "At least, things could probably be worse."

The crow laughed unpleasantly. "I wouldn't say that," he said. "The way things are, it really can't get any worse. I'm afraid you're all out of time, pal."

Jaune found himself nodding slowly. Beside him, Pyrrha was silent and unmoving, not even noticing the crow. "Out of time...right," he muttered. "Well, I guess that's fine by me. I was just about finished, anyway. I need a break from all this."

"...Heh." The crow chuckled, though not in a malicious way. "If it's a break you want, that's what you're gonna get. I hope you enjoy it." He paused. "What a shame, though...yet again, just as you get what you've wanted, it gets taken away from you. Maybe another time, somewhere else, things will be different." As he finished speaking, the walls of Jaune's house began shaking. An ominous light could be seen outside his window.

Jaune held Pyrrha close, as the light consumed them both, obliterating the house in a single second as it spread unabated across the entire city, swallowing everything in sight. There had been a malfunction of some sort at the local nuclear plant, and the entire facility had detonated without warning.

Within a minute, there was no such thing as Vale. All that remained was a two thousand square mile crater, filled with the blackened wreckage of buildings. There were no survivors, as the radiation in the air filled the lungs of anyone not killed in the initial blast, resulting in a slow death by poisoning. When the last person had taken their last breath, the ruins of Vale were filled with the sound of silence.

By the time dawn came, and the morning sun shone down upon the land, everything was gone.

* * *

 _15th Scene: Destination_

The sun was beginning to set over Vale, letting off a solemn, orange glow that encompassed the whole city, bathing the tall steel buildings in a warm light. The sky was turning to a light shade of red as it lowered down into the mountains, behind the pure white clouds. Another day was coming to an end. All across the city, people were making the most of the time they had left - shopping, visiting the movies, talking with friends - now was the time to get it all done.

In a dingy, run-down nightclub on the edge of downtown, the DJ was just finishing up the last few songs of the day. The large volume of customers he'd gotten today were far more than he was accustomed to dealing with. The collective sounds of all of them talking was drowning out the blaring rock music.

Sitting alone at a table, his feet placed neatly on the table before him, Mercury Black took a sip of his margarita. "Whew," he muttered as he felt the cool, refreshing liquid flow down his gullet. "I needed that." He leaned his head back and yawned, feeling a day's worth of exhaustion catching up to him.

"And here's your whiskey!" A pretty young waitress walked up to his table, placing the cold beverage in front of him. "Wow, must be a pretty busy day at work for you, huh?" she asked with a flirtatious wink.

"You might say that," Mercury chuckled as she walked away. _Hmmm, I'd give her a 6 or 7,_ he thought to himself, watching her go. Out of boredom, he began glancing around the nightclub, taking in all the various faces. On the dance floor, he recognized Yang dancing with her three friends, laughing drunkenly. At the table next to him, a young blonde man sat opposite a beautiful redheaded girl, stutteringly awkwardly as he asked her out on a date. On the other side of the club, a lean, dark-haired figure was arranging his cups and utensils in strange, artistic patterns, giggling to himself all the while. Close by, a pair of brunettes were chatting excitedly, one of them trying to fit a cute headband with bunny ears onto her embarrassed friend's head.

Mercury yawned again, and reached for his new drink. Mostly a bunch of boring types - these were the sort of people who had never had anything happen to them, and had no stories to tell. Even the shittiest, most repulsive sectors of the city at least had fascinating people to talk to. But in this sorry little nightclub, there was nothing but the taste of cheap alcohol to relieve his boredom. It had only been a few hours since he'd completed his latest mission from the phone calls, and he was already hungering for more.

"Well, hello." He heard an unfamiliar woman's voice beside him. "You seem rather lonely today, don't you?"

Mercury looked to the side, and saw the young woman standing at his table, her hand placed on his shoulder. She had long, ashen-black hair flowing down one side of her head, pale, smooth skin, and a long red minidress that left her sleek shoulders bare. She leaned over and smiled at him with her large amber eyes, moving her tongue over her scarlet red lips. Mercury felt his heart race as he stared at her, and he became aware of the bulge rising in his pants.

"I guess so," he replied, smiling back at the woman. "Well, you don't look like you have anyone with you, either. How about we both keep each other company, huh? I'll even buy you a couple drinks." That was a lie. Mercury was extremely hard up at the moment - he could barely afford another beer with how little money he had on him.

"Mmm, I'll consider it," she chuckled. "Either way, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Cinder Fall...what's yours, young man?"

"Mercury. Mercury Black."

"Well then, Mercury, since you're offering so generously…" Cinder licked her lips. "I'm thirsting for a little Diamond cocktail right about now...would you mind bringing one over for me? In return, I...well, you'll find out," she said, winking.

 _Damn. What a vixen._ Mercury cringed, practically feeling the enormous, gaping hole in his wallet. Scowling, he glanced into Cinder's smiling face. "...Sorry, but I'm pretty much shit broke right now," he admitted. "If you want your stupid drink, you'll have to ask someone else."

"You see? Sometimes it's better to be honest with strangers," Cinder chuckled. "Well, that's rather hypocritical of me, since I haven't been completely honest with you, either. The truth is, you could have gotten me the cocktail and it still wouldn't have mattered - I've already gotten a much better offer, and I certainly wouldn't give them up for someone like you."

"Oh…? And who the fuck would that person be?" Mercury was feeling irrationally angry. Other than the fact that he wasn't used to being insulted like this, he didn't see how anyone in this shithole of a nightclub could possibly be worthy of a babe like Cinder, particularly more than himself. "Who's this big hunk of sex appeal, huh?" He glanced around the club.

She laughed. "Now, now. No need to sound so bitter. It has nothing to do with attractiveness, I promise you that. As I'm sure you're more than aware right now, money is everything. And someone's offered me quite a generous sum to...provide my services." She pointed at a black-clad man with red sunglasses, standing at the door. "I'm sure you recognize that outfit, yes?"

 _The Syndicate,_ Mercury realized. That stupid organization had taken over the entire crime operation in Vale recently, and it was impossible to go anywhere without seeing one of their ugly faces hanging around. Fury filled his body as he glared at the man. _I can't fucking believe this. She's turning ME down? For that son of a bitch?_

"Well, today just wasn't your day, it seems," Cinder said, giving him a mockingly sympathetic pat on the back. The thug at the door was waving to her, his free hand clasping a suitcase filled to the brim with money. She followed him out of the club, her wide hips swaying side to side as she walked away from him.

"Fuck…" Mercury grumbled. "Fuck!" He downed his whiskey in a single, furious gulp, and slammed it onto the table with a loud _clang._ Several people turned to look at him as they heard the sound. He sighed, sinking down into his chair. _Well, my day is ruined…_

An idea suddenly popped into his head. _I could follow after them...maybe see where they're going? He's part of the Syndicate, after all...I've been cutting down those fucks like cockroaches for the past few weeks anyway!_ If he killed the guy, Cinder would have no choice but to take him. It was a good idea.

Then again, was it really worth his time? She was just one whore, after all. He could always just find someone else. Not to mention, as he reached into his wallet, Mercury realized that he did in fact have enough money for one more drink. All it would take would be one generous sip of vodka, and he'd completely forget about Cinder. Mercury nodded to himself, his mind made up.

About one minute later, he burst out of the nightclub, just in time to watch the Syndicate's signature black car speeding out of the parking lot and onto the highway. "Oh no, you don't," he muttered, running over to his motorcycle and getting on. Turning on the engine, he raced onto the road, following after the other vehicle.

The black car fled across the highway, and the motorcycle followed. Mercury felt the rushing wind against his face - he'd been in such a rush that he'd forgotten to put on his helmet. Grunting, he pushed on the pedal, sending his bike far past the speed limit as he closed in on the Syndicate's car. Unfortunately, the other vehicle had become aware that it was being followed, and it also sped up in response.

Without warning, a thug popped his ugly head out of the car's side window, a pistol in hand. He fired several times at Mercury, who desperately veered from side to side to avoid the bullets. Sparing a split second to look upward, he saw that they were approaching the main base of the Syndicate - a tall, ten-story building decorated in black-and-red graffiti.

The car pulled into the parking lot in front of the building. Going too fast to stop, Mercury's bike crashed into the vehicle's rear, and its rider was sent flying into the air. As he soared, he caught a momentary glimpse of Cinder sitting in the car below him, and he could've sworn he saw her smile at him. Yelling, he crashed into the bushes, sending a rush of pain through his body.

"Heh. What a fucking dumbass." It was the voice of the thug driving the car. "C'mon, lady. The boss can't wait to meet you - you better make sure his hundred grand was worth it, or he'll make you pay." He and the other thug got out of the vehicle, each holding one of Cinder's arms as they dragged her into the building.

Dusting himself off, Mercury walked right up to the front door of the building. _Just you wait, Cinder,_ he thought. _I'll show you just what you're missing out on._ There were two thugs guarding the door, and they immediately noticed Mercury approaching them. "Hey, what the hell's a punk like you doin' here?" one of them snarled. "Get away before I beat your stupid ass into the ground, kid."

Smirking, Mercury ran up to him and punched him in the face, breaking the man's nose. His companion drew his gun, shouting as he prepared to shoot. Grabbing his pistol out of his hands, Mercury gave him a savage kick that shattered his ribs, knocking him to the ground as he spat out blood. Holding his newfound weapon, he finished off both of them with point-blank headshots.

 _Fuck yeah! Now that's the rush._ Feeling rejuvenated, Mercury entered the ground floor of the Syndicate base. There was no one in sight, which disappointed him. He made his way up the staircase to the second floor, where he found groups of thugs hanging around, playing poker or getting high on drugs. One thug was smoking a cigarette by the top of the stairs, and Mercury blew out his brains.

He plowed through the various rooms, catching the thugs off guard. Many of them were too high to even notice as Mercury shot them in the chest, spilling their rotten guts out onto the floor, or kicked them in the heads, crushing their skulls like balloons. Some of the more lucid thugs shouted at him and raised their guns, firing at him as he took cover behind a wall. When the thugs ran past him, he ran out from his cover and knocked them all down with punches and kicks. Taking a hunting knife from one of the thugs, Mercury slit the far, greasy throats of two of them, and drove the blade into the soft brains of the last thug.

There was another group of thugs waiting for Mercury at the foot of the staircase. Taking a machine gun from one of the corpses behind him, he mowed them all down, and the stairs behind them were coated red with blood and viscera. Gun in hand, Mercury walked up to the third floor, hearing the soft, wet sounds of his feet stepping in the red fluids beneath him.

All around the third floor, he saw large statues of some ancient political figure who he had probably heard about in history class many years ago, that had been defaced with graffiti and decorated with bowler hats and bright orange hair. _Ugly as fuck,_ Mercury thought to himself, cracking his knuckles as he took a step through the corridor.

He should have looked before he leapt. Hearing the distinct sound of glass shattering all around him, Mercury jumped back as a hail of gunfire rang out from all directions. He'd been spotted by the gunmen standing in the rooms on either side of him, and he could hear them running toward him. He raised his machine gun in preparation, finger placed on the trigger.

The thugs ran at Mercury like moths to a flame. The narrow hallway made them sitting ducks as he fired, shooting them down as their broken bodies flailed around like sock puppets. Almost a full minute passed before he finally ran out of ammunition, and lowered the gun. In front of him, a veritable mountain of corpses, riddled with bullet holes, were piled up and blocking his way forward.

Grunting, he kicked away the bodies as he stepped over the pile, making his way to the staircase. He walked up to the fourth floor, which looked like some sort of grotesque museum, decorated with plaques, rusted swords and other artifacts. "Well, isn't this a nice place," he muttered to himself. He felt like falling asleep just from the thought of being in a museum. Thankfully, the sound of thugs approaching woke him up immediately.

One shot killed the closest thug, forcefully removing his guts from his body. The second shot grazed another thug, but failed to slow down their assault. Mercury hid behind one of the exhibits as he heard the returning gunfire. He took a knife from his pocket and, popping out from behind cover for a moment, threw it at the goons. Smiling in satisfaction as he watched the blade land in the man's skull, he ran over to the last thug and shot him at point blank range, splitting his ribcage open with the bullets.

Onto the fourth floor now. Rows upon rows of office desks provided plenty of cover for Mercury as he snuck around the large room, occasionally stabbing an unsuspecting thug and hiding his bloodstained corpse under a desk. He couldn't make it longer than a minute before getting bored of trying to be stealthy, so he leapt onto one of the desks, gun in hand, and began firing madly in the direction of the remaining thugs. He swung around in a circle, laughing as his bullets flew in all directions, nearing his enemies into bloody chunks. One he'd slaughtered them all, he made his way up to the fifth floor.

This time, his enemies were ready for him. They immediately began firing at him as he came up the stairs, and Mercury barely avoided death by rolling away from the gunfire. He collided with one of the thugs mid-roll, and grabbed his shotgun out of his hand. He turned and blasted the other thug's head off with the weapon, and finished the fallen goon off with a powerful kick that snapped his neck in two. Mercury wandered around the area, each shot from his weapon blowing holes in thugs. As the shotgun was finally emptied, he threw the now-useless gun at the last thug on the floor, the metal end striking him in the head and knocking out a chunk of his brains.

The sixth floor was a single large room, filled with armed thugs, and two gunmen stationed in the very back. They charged at Mercury as they spotted him running up the staircase, their weapons held forward. With his bare hands, Mercury blocked their strikes, knocking the bats and knives out of their hands as he struck them down with kicks to their vital points. One of his strikes broke a thug's nose with a loud _snap,_ before he swung his arm into his neck with enough force to cause his windpipe to jut out of his throat. He grabbed a thug by the face and pulled his jawbones off his face, tearing his skin and bones apart as he fell to the floor. Holding another goon up in front of him as a hostage, Mercury threw him in front of his comrade's swing, which connected with his temple and crushed his skull.

All the while, the gunmen behind him were firing at him as he leapt around the room, avoiding their shots. Occasionally, they would end up killing one of their own comrades. Mercury leapt off the head of one of the larger thugs, launching himself at a gunman's head and snapping his neck with a kick. Before the other gunner could react, Mercury ran at him and punched him in the face. He fell down and hit his head onto the floor with enough impact to flatten his forehead. His head split open and blood spilled out.

The last few thugs were still running at him, wanting to take his head. Mercury kicked the largest of the thugs in the stomach, causing him to stumble and clutch his belly, throwing up onto the floor. He then grabbed the other two thugs by the hair, smashing their heads together with a loud _crunch._ The two of them fell, the blood and brains gushing out from their heads mixing together in a large puddle. Finally, Mercury grabbed the large thug by the stomach, ripping his skin open and watching his organs free themselves from his enormous bowels.

When he reached the seventh floor, he was disappointed to see that there were no thugs waiting for him. However, the table was laden with the leftovers of some feast that had taken place earlier. _Lucky number seven, I guess._ Mercury grabbed a bowl full of popcorn and emptied it down his throat, savouring the buttery crunchiness of the snack. Once he was done, he tossed the bowl to the side and made his way up the staircase.

The building's eighth floor had a large swimming pool in the center, where the thugs were partying, completely oblivious to the intruder that had made his way into their home. They'd left their machine guns lying by the poolside, and Mercury picked one up, before emptying a round into the pool. Screams rang through the air as the bullets cut through the thugs, turning the water's colour to a crimson red. Some of the thugs desperately got out of the pool and ran to retrieve their weaponry, but Mercury shot them down before they reached them. One thug's foot slipped on the wet floor, and split his own head open from hitting the marble surface.

He was at the second-highest floor now. He was so close to his destination he could practically feel his blood burning under his skin. He was barely thinking as he ran down the hallways, gunning down thugs and staining the walls with their blood, stabbing them multiple times in the chest with knives and severing their limbs into pieces. At some point, his enemies gave up on attacking him, instead opting to flee while screaming in terror. Some of them even knelt down in front of him with their arms up in surrender, begging for his mercy. But Mercury had no mercy to give, smashing their heads in with his foot or gunning them down as they tried to run. Once the last enemy had been felled, he made his way to the tenth and final floor.

A large, ornate set of doors lay before him. Grunting, Mercury pushed them open, walking into an opulent room decorated with a long, fancy red carpet and expensive furniture, made of wood and ivory, lying everywhere. On a handsome velvet couch, an orange-haired man wearing a bowler hat was sitting in Cinder's lap, whispering to her softly. Beside the couch, a short young woman with multicolored hair stood with a pink umbrella in her hand.

"Hey shithead," Mercury snarled as he approached the Syndicate's leader. "That lady's mine, so give her back."

The man looked up at him, disdain in his eyes as he glanced over Mercury's bloodstained clothes. "...Oh? And just who are you, peasant? You must be pretty good if you managed to fight through all of my men."

For just a moment, Mercury saw a look of surprise come over Cinder's lovely face. It soon faded, and she flashed him a seductive smile. "You really came all this way just for me…?" she murmured. "I'm touched. You really are something, Mercury."

"So, that's your name, huh?" The boss muttered. "Well kid, I'm feeling generous today, so I'll honour you with an introduction. The name's Roman Torchwick, and I own this whole fucking city. You've started a war with my men, and now you're gonna pay with your life." He waved to the girl beside him. "Neo, if you will."

Not uttering a word, Neo walked toward Mercury with a smug grin on her face. He swung a kick at her, but she opened her umbrella and blocked the hit. She tried to stab him with the blade lodged in the umbrella's tip, and Mercury leapt backward to avoid it. _Damn! What kind of stupid fucking weapon is that?_

He parried Neo's strikes with his fists and feet, grabbing her umbrella and pulling the girl toward him. "Hrahh!" He knocked his head against her, disorienting her before grabbing her free hand and twisting it, feeling the crackling of bone as Neo's mouth opened in a silent scream of pain. She dropped her umbrella, and Mercury grabbed it before it could fall to the ground. He thrust the blade's tip into Neo's eye, before pushing the weapon deeper and deeper into the young girl's body before the blade jutted out from her spine, covered in her blood.

Mercury drew out the umbrella as Neo's lifeless body fell to the floor. "Well, there you go," he sneered at Roman, who was staring at him with venomous hatred in his eyes. "Was that good enough for her?"

"Now that was your last mistake, you piece of shit," Roman spat. "That was my favourite henchwoman you just killed. Well you know what they say, right? An eye for an eye." He snapped his fingers.

Immediately, Mercury felt a rush of pain in his back. "Guh!" he gasped, falling forwards as the two thugs walked up to him from behind. He'd been so preoccupied with fighting Neo that he hadn't even noticed them approach. One of them turned him over onto his back, before kicking Mercury in the ribs with all his might. As he screamed, the thugs grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up, helpless, in front of their boss. "F-fuck you…" Mercury panted.

"Ha! Not so strong now, are you?" Roman laughed. He got up from his couch, taking Cinder by the hand. "Now I'll admit you provided me with some adequate entertainment, but that's over with now. It's time for me to savour my prize for the day." Indulgently, he ran his fingers up her slender, curvaceous body, licking his lips as he reached down into her dress. Mercury tried to free himself from his captors' grasp, but to no avail.

"Take him out to the ocean and throw his body in," Roman ordered his men. "Or don't. I don't give a shit what you do to this brat, as long as he suffers the most painful, humiliating death ever imagined by a human being. Take some pictures while you're at it - I'm sure they'll do great as Christmas cards for his family!" He wrapped his arm around Cinder. "Now then," he murmured into her ear, "Why don't we enjoy ourselves for a bit?"

Cinder chuckled. "I'm sure we will." She turned her gaze to Mercury, and gave him a brief wink.

Suddenly, the vixen gave Roman a hard shove. As he fell onto the floor with a surprised yell, Cinder raised the pistol she'd snatched from his pocket, shooting one of Mercury's captors in the head. Now with one arm free, Mercury punched the other thug in the face before grabbing his shotgun out of his hand and blowing his brains out.

"What…" Roman grunted, struggling to get up, but Cinder put her foot onto his face, her high heels digging into his nose. Mercury walked over to him, shotgun held in his hand. "...Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Why…?" Cinder murmured, smiling at Roman as he lay on the floor. "I suppose I just find him more interesting than you." She stepped aside, leaving him at Mercury's mercy.

Grinning from ear to ear, Mercury aimed his shotgun and, pulling the trigger, blew off Roman's leg. The crime boss screamed in agony as blood flowed from his stump. Another shot severed one of his arms, and a third split his ribcage into pieces, a fountain of gore pouring out from his chest. Mercury stomped on Roman's face, grinding his flesh into pulp until it was nothing but a featureless mash of skin and bones.

By now, Roman was whimpering. "Fuck...you…" he moaned. "Just fucking finish me off, you son of a bitch. Or are you too much of a pussy?"

"Your wish is my command," Mercury said, smirking as he prepared to take the shot. Suddenly, Cinder put her hand on the shotgun barrel, shaking her head at him. _What? Is she taking pity on this piece of shit?_

Cinder smiled at him, gently pulling his fingers off the gun and letting it fall to the floor. All of Mercury's strength faded as he stared at her. Moving her tongue over her lips, she removed her dress, leaving her clad in nothing but her black satin lingerie. With her dexterous fingers, she quickly removed Mercury's garments, until she was lovingly caressing the throbbing bulge in his underwear.

Realizing what the vixen wanted to do, Mercury grinned. He reached out and grabbed Cinder by the waist, feeling her smooth skin under his fingers. He tore off her bra and took one of her round breasts in his hand, feeling even more turned on as he roughly kneaded the soft, pink flesh with his fingers. Leaning in, he took her hardened nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as Cinder began to moan sexily in response. "Yes…" she whispered. "Fuck yes…"

Encouraged by this, Mercury moved his free hand down to her ample thighs, feeling her soft, supple flesh under his fingers. He gave her tight ass a hard slap, eliciting a scream of pleasure from Cinder and leaving a bright pink mark on her asscheek. Reaching into her silky panties, he found her quivering slit, aching for him to enter her. He rammed two of his fingers deep into her labia, feeling around her sweet insides as her moans grew ever louder, and her fluids began leaking out of her and onto the floor.

"Fuck…" Cinder gasped. "Oh, you're wonderful." In a fit of passion, she pushed Mercury back first into the wall behind them, causing him to grunt in pain. Pulling down her sopping wet underwear, she greedily put her hand on Mercury's engorged member, running her fingers up and down with relish. Ecstasy filled his mind as she pleasured him, and though he opened his mouth to yell, no sound came out. His eyes turned to Roman, still lying in an ever-growing pool of his own blood, who gazed at him with hatred in his eyes. Grinning, Mercury flipped him off.

"There," Cinder whispered as a short burst of sticky fluid came out of his shaft. With an indulgent gasp, she took his member and gingerly placed it inside of her. "Ah-ahhhhh!" Almost immediately, she threw her head back and screamed. "Oh, fuck yes….!"

Mercury felt like screaming, too. The pleasure was almost too much to take all at once. Cinder's scrumptious walls were tightly pressing on his shaft, sending his libido into overdrive. It took all of his self-control to not finish inside her right then and there. Panting, he grabbed onto her bottom and began thrusting with all his might. Gently, he leaned in and began nibbling at her ear, then her cheek, finally moving to her neck. "More," he hissed at her as he felt himself moving inside her. His fingers clawed down her back, ripping into her skin, and he could feel her blood flowing onto his hands. "Give me more, bitch."

Cinder obliged as she rode him harder, pressing him against the wall so hard he was sure his spine would snap. "Damn!" he muttered as he grabbed her breasts with both hands, squeezing their soft flesh as he felt himself reach the end of his endurance. He found his way back down to her hips again, and his fingers gently entered her other hole as he thrust himself even deeper into her clit, his shaft's length almost penetrating her womb. "Ah-ahh…" Now being pleasured from both ends, Cinder's moans were getting quicker and more ecstatic, and it seemed she was almost at her limit as well. With a pleasured grunt, Mercury rammed himself inside her with all his might, his member going in as far as it could possibly go, feeling a rush of euphoria as he let go of his restraint.

"Ah - ohhh yes, ah, ah, _AHHH!_ " Cinder moaned as they came together, her scream loud enough to deafen Mercury as his mind went blank from the pleasure. He felt the wave of fluid exiting his length and filling Cinder's womb. For almost a whole minute they stood there, holding onto each other in a delirious frenzy. Finally, Mercury detached himself from her, his now flaccid shaft dangling in the air as the last drops of his juice leaked from its tip. Panting, Cinder caught the sticky liquid in her palm, greedily licking it off her fingers.

Once the two of them were done, they quickly dressed themselves. Roman's now-dead body had already grown cold, and the scent of rotting flesh was pervading the entire building. Mercury and Cinder made their way back down to the ground floor, marveling at all the carnage that he had left in his wake.

"You realize that you've just taken down the city's main crime syndicate all by yourself," Cinder murmured. "You could take it all for yourself now, if you wanted."

Mercury laughed and shook his head. "Fuck that. Last thing I need is to be responsible for anything. I like my current job just fine, anyway."

They reached the lobby. "Oh, by the way," said Cinder, turning to him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to pick up a friend of mine on the way to your place. Her name is Emerald - I'm sure you'll get along with her."

"A friend?" Mercury asked, a scowl forming on his face. "You don't mean…"

Cinder just smiled, in that arrogant yet sexy way of hers. "Oh, come now, you don't need to worry about that. She'll be more than happy to share, I promise you."

"...Whatever." Mercury didn't like the sound of that, but it didn't bother him at the moment. All that mattered was that he'd done it. A feeling of ecstatic pride rushed through him as it finally sunk in. He'd gotten the girl, and killed the bad guy. He'd won. And there was nothing he loved better than to savour his victory.

He wrapped his arm around Cinder's waist. The doors opened, and the two of them walked out into the beautiful sunset.

* * *

 **FIN**


End file.
